The Remarkable Anastasia(Marla) Fourteen-year-old Sarah stared in horror at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. So much for the video tutorial that promised a perfect haircut. Her hair was uneven. What were supposed to be soft layers were just bluntly cut chunks. It looked as someone had blindfolded a kindergarten student and then said, "Here's a pair of scissors, kid. Have a blast!"

She stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway, and nearly ran into Anastasia, her cousin who was visiting. “Oh, dear,” Anastasia said mildly.

“Yes,” answered Sarah, although ‘Oh, dear’ wasn’t nearly a strong enough reaction to the mess that she had made. She could think of at least a few stronger phrases, but she’d be in trouble if she said them. The fact that she’d done it herself and couldn’t even be angry with anyone else made it all the more frustrating. “What am I going to do? I have ruined my hair!” she wailed.

Anastasia’s face stayed calm and serene as she tilted her head and looked at Sarah’s hair. “You know, she said slowly, “I believe that I can help.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I learned how to cut hair after I finished high school. After that I worked in a salon for a year and then decided to do something else. And since then, I’ve occasionally helped friends out with troubles such as…. (she indicated Sarah’s hair), such as these.”

Sarah sat in a chair and Anastasia spent a few minutes carefully assessing the job. “To make it look the best, it will be quite short. Are you okay with that?”

“I guess so,” said Sarah.

“Okay. Wash your hair and meet me in the kitchen.”



Silence filled the kitchen as Sarah sat on the tall stool, hoping and praying that her hair would look okay. Had she really done the right thing to trust her cousin? Now she was starting to have doubts. Maybe she should go to a salon. Maybe she should hop right off the chair and… but Anastasia had already started. Anastasia concentrated on her task, taking care with each movement of the comb and the scissors. Finally, she was done. “Hold on just a minute. I’m going to style it.” She left. Sarah resisted the urge to check her hair in a mirror, but her hands went up to feel how short her hair was. It was just above her shoulders, quite a bit shorter than it had been the day before. Anastasia returned with the hair dryer and a rounded brush. She worked methodically, holding the brush and dryer and working with both together. Finally, she said, “Okay, done.” She smiled reassuringly, apparently satisfied with her work.

Sarah eased herself off of the stool and made her way to the bathroom. Her heart was pounding, which she knew was silly. It was only hair! But it was HER hair, and she didn’t want it to look awful. She kept her head down as she entered the bathroom floor, her eyes on the fluffy blue rug. She drew a deep breath and looked.

The haircut was beautiful. Had she been asked if she wanted a short cut, she would have said no, but the cut suited her face perfectly. It was a simple bob. Her hair looked shiny, healthy, even (to her eyes), glamorous. Never before had she felt so chic.

Anastasia peeked into the bathroom. “Like it?” she asked.

“I love it!” Sarah exclaimed, putting both hands on her head and turning her face from left to right as she admired the cut in the mirror. “You are a lifesaver! Why did you ever decide to do something else? You’re a pro!”

Anastasia shrugged. “I have lots of interests, I guess.”

Sarah considered that. “Yeah, I guess you do. Since you’ve been here, you’ve repaired a broken chair, you’ve made a fancy birthday cake, and now this. What’s next?”

Anastasia laughed. “Now,” she said, “we watch a movie and eat some of that leftover cake.”

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