Haircut

I needed a haircut so I stopped at a barbershop down the street. I took a seat, the only white guy in the shop. I gave the young barber a few instructions. He nodded and tentatively started in. At last he asked, “Do you want a part?” I have always had a part somewhere in my hair so I said, “Sure I do!” I heard the fine clipper and felt the furrow he cut into my hair along the side of my head, a narrow strip at a diagonal, nowhere near where I would put a part with a comb. I walk by that shop nearly every day. I wave to the barber and he waves to me. My hair is getting a little straggly and I’ll stop in one of these days to see him.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!
Josh