A little background: I’ve been battling with hair loss since I was a youngster.
It’s been a long and hard process – wigs, caps, scarves, anything to conceal what I regarded as defects.
Jake, my fiancé, played a significant role in this. “You’re beautiful exactly the way you are,” he always says to me, and when he looks at me, I believe him.
But this narrative isn’t about me or Jake; it’s about Avery, Jake’s eight-year-old daughter. She’s been my sunshine since we met; a witty, intelligent, big-hearted kid who gets people.
When Jake and I were engaged, I told him—and myself—that I would adopt Avery after the wedding. I wanted her to feel as loved and valued as she deserved.
The big day arrived, and Avery resembled a fairy-tale princess. Her delicate pink dress flounced as she twirled before the mirror, grinning with pride.
But there was one weird detail: she was wearing the same knitted winter cap. Completely out of place in her clothing.
Avery stood by Jake, smiling as if she had a secret, and every time I looked at her, my heart swelled.
At the reception, laughing and music filled the air.
Avery stands alone in the center of the room. She held something in her hands, wrapped in a lovely ribbon.
Avery cleared her throat, her tiny voice rising above the murmuring. “I have a present for you, Anna.”
The ribbon came undone easily, and when the fabric fell away, I froze.
It was hair—long, lustrous, tailbone-length hair pulled back into a strong ponytail. My breathing caught as I peered at it, my mind racing.
Finally, she spoke, her voice solid despite her small frame. “I wanted to give you something special, Anna. It’s for a love wig.”
“It’s because I love you. And I want you to have hair that’s made with love.”
Before I could react, Avery reached up and performed something that altered the entire room in an instant.
She pulled off her knitted hat.
Her gorgeous, long, shining hair, which made her look like a storybook princess, was gone. In its stead was the most adorable tiny bob I’d ever seen, with the ends curling gently at her chin. It was adorable, but all I could think of was what it represented.
“Daddy took me to the hairdresser last week, and they said it was long enough to make a wig. So now it can be your hair.”
As I clutched her tightly, the world went away. All I felt was love.
“This,” I whispered, my voice breaking, “is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. I love you so much, Avery. You are the most amazing daughter, and I’m so, so proud of you.”
Her tiny arms drew me back. “I love you too, Mom. You’re my favorite person ever.”
The narrative did not finish there, however. Jake and I felt we couldn’t allow Avery’s kindness to end with us. A few weeks after the wedding, while we were reflecting on everything that had occurred, Jake said, “You know, we should do something bigger with this.”
That’s how the “Love Wig Foundation” was founded. Avery became the project’s heart and soul. She spoke at events, helped design wigs, and even wrote short notes to accompany each one. “To make people smile,” she’d remark.
