A beloved little neighbor started playing softball this summer and her dad has been practicing with her on the sidewalk in front of their home. He showed me an endearing photo of the two of them discussing some fine point of the game and it immediately took me back fifty years - not the uniform or the glove or any sporting aspect but Makayla's two braids. Actually I don't remember back that far but a photo from the time shows my sister and my self at the kitchen sink; Mary is washing dishes while seated on a stool; I am standing on a chair, dishtowel in hand, ready for drying duty. My hair has a slightly crooked center part and two braids, just like Makayla's. Two little girls - two generations apart, engrossed in two different occupations - share a timeless determination and a hairstyle.
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