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An Angel With Purple Hair

By Maggie Turner


November 10, 1999

An Angel With Purple Hair

9:34 a.m. The Teenager and friend were toying with nature. They were playing God with hair color. I wouldn't be thinking of it now but for the purple bar of soap that I am still using. It used to be white, parts of it still are; but mostly it is purple. I wonder why I still use this bar of soap, streaked with the purple remnants of beauty desired. Every morning as I lather the washcloth with this particular bar of soap, I wonder at how the lather is still white. I suspect it is because it has been touched by angels. Who am I to discard the evidence of miracles, however small?

Today I am thinking of the mothers who died before their daughter's reached maturity and of their daughters, who missed them.

5:28 p.m. The earth was parched and needed rain. The sky and I cried in each others arms.


 

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