I wanted it to be the best day of my life. Yes, it was.
It wasn’t the vows, the champagne, or the gorgeous arch adorned in white flowers that made it a memorable event.
It was Grace, not you.
My fiancé Lucas has an eight-year-old daughter named Grace. From the first time we met, I really liked her. She looked older than she was at first because she was bashful and sad. It took a while to gain her trust, but it was worth it.
She would sit next to me on the couch and watch me paint my nails without saying anything. She would sometimes crane her head and ask questions in that curious, childish voice that youngsters use when they want to learn something new.
She called me “Miss Julia” for the first six months. She held my hand in the afternoon and gazed up at me with big, honest eyes. Then she asked, “Can I call you Mama-Jules?”
That was when my heart broke into a million pieces.
I knew that our wedding wouldn’t just be about Lucas and me; it would also be about the three of us starting a family.
I made sure that Grace was involved in everything that was going on. She chose her flower girl attire, which was a light pink gown with layers of tulle that sparkled as she twirled. Thanks to her, I was able to choose the flowers for the centerpieces. We made up a goofy handshake as we were eating the cakes. You could hear how thrilled and excited she was every second before the big day.
But there was one thing that I just couldn’t get.
Grace came to the wedding in the morning wearing a winter hat that she had sewn herself.
It was constructed of thick yarn and was a light blue color. It had two pom-poms that were so enormous that they dangled like floppy ears. It didn’t match her clothes, the spring garden setting, or even the bright May day.
As soon as she and Lucas got out of the car, I noticed it right away. I smiled and bent down to her level.
I said, “Hey, sweet pea,” to her. “That hat looks very nice on you.”
She nodded her head just slightly. You have to do it.
Lucas shook his head and told me not to go for it, but I couldn’t help but glance at him.
So I didn’t do it. Kids are known to do unusual things. It might have been something she genuinely cared about, like a blanket that made her feel safe. It could have come from a really special person. I didn’t want to ruin the day, so I did my best not to make her feel bad.
There were no problems with the ceremony. My clothes shone in the light, and Lucas gazed at me like I was the most important person in the world. Grace stood behind us with her flower basket, appearing like a knight protecting something very important.
She still donned the cap, though.
The hat stayed on her head the whole time, even when she was dancing with the other kids, taking pictures, and eating supper.
That was the period that I will always remember.
The band just finished playing a love tune that was slow. There were gentle sounds of people laughing and glasses clinking throughout the room. Grace hurriedly proceeded to the middle of the room, where she stood alone with a small object in her hands.
The noise stopped when more people started to pay attention to her.
At the moment, Lucas and I were sitting at the sweetheart table. She was walking toward us, her eyes on me, and her modest steps were purposeful.
She spoke clearly and added, “I am gifted with you.”
I said, “Oh, sweetheart,” as I grinned and began. You didn’t have to—”
Just as I was ready to finish, she took the cap off her head.
When I looked around the room, it seemed like everyone was taking a deep breath at the same time.
Her gorgeous, golden hair was gone. She had cut off a lot of it, but not in a messy or reckless way. Instead, she had done it with care, as if someone had helped her make it neat.
She also had a bunch of that hair in her hands, which was wrapped up with a silver ribbon.
She said, “For you,” and then she put it on my lap.
I was trying to figure her out as I gazed at her.
When Lucas’s hand touched mine, I could feel a little tremor. His eyes twinkled. He said, “She wanted to give you the best gift she could.” “She wanted to give you…” She asked you last month what she could give you that would be hers and that she could never lose or break.
Grace stared at me with a look that was honest and open. She said, “You will be my mother from now on.” “I wanted to tell you a bit about me.” Something big
I could not breathe on my own because my throat was so constricted. I couldn’t stop crying.
The room was completely quiet. People from all around were watching this little girl show a part of herself to the woman who was about to marry her father.
I put my hands over her face and held it as I bent down. I remarked, my voice breaking, “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” It will always make me think of good things.
For a little period, she gazed at me with the shyness that she always has. Then she grinned big, which made her eyes crinkle and her cheeks get scarlet.
There was a lot of applause in the room, but it wasn’t a loud crowd; it was quiet, true clapping. Everyone knew they had seen something holy.
It wasn’t a show. It wasn’t about wanting to be noticed.
In short, it was love.
Lucas hugged me under the fairy lights that were hanging amongst the trees later that night, as the party was ending. When I looked across at the grass, I saw Grace playing tag with her cousins, but she had forgotten to bring her blue hat.
Someone said in a low voice, “She is great.”
Lucas kissed my forehead and said, “She is now yours too.”
The whole wedding was lovely, but Grace’s gift of her trust, courage, and heart made it a day they will never forget.
Love doesn’t always seem like flowers or diamonds shining brightly in front of you. Sometimes, the best gift the world has ever gotten comes from a little girl in a crocheted hat.
Grace and I have been together ever since that day. We were always close, but the event brought us even closer in a manner that words can’t truly describe. Not only did she offer me her hair, she also gave me her heart.
That wasn’t the end of our story, though.
It had been a few weeks since Lucas and I had talked about the day we sat on the porch and watched the sun go down.
He said in a contemplative tone, “You know, maybe we should do something more important with what she did.”
I nodded immediately away. It’s like putting together a basis. We could produce wigs for youngsters who have lost their hair, such those who are getting treatment or have alopecia. Something that makes people feel good about themselves and like them.
Grace, who had been lying on the couch with her coloring book, suddenly grew quite enthusiastic. “Can I help you?” she inquired. I want to make other people happy, just like I made you happy, Mom.
The Love Wig Foundation was started because of this tragedy.
Grace changed over time until it became her very essence. She helped choose out the wig styles, wrote little messages to go with each one (such “So you can smile when you wear this,” which she typed in block letters very carefully), and gave speeches at events to explain why she was so enthused about the initiative.
She was only eight years old, but she already knew something that most people spend their whole lives trying to learn: real love is about giving without expecting anything in return.
Grace, who was a teenager at the time, hugged me tightly before stepping on stage at one of our charity events a few years later. “See, Mom?” she said as she got closer to her mother. Believe me when I say that love makes everything better.
At that moment, I remembered again why she was and always will be the nicest gift I had ever had.
