When I lived in a monastery, the Abbot asked who knew how to cut hair. I raised my hand; I had never cut anyone's hair. But being 19, in a monastery, I had to claim amusement where I could.
A person from the town came to the monastery to teach me how to cut hair. Basic lessons 101. It was fascinating; I started cutting the hair of those in the monastery between work and prayer. The sisters and priests were patient with me. They always seemed satisfied and gave me free will to do as I thought best.
Laura, a community member and a real kick in the pants, came to my makeshift hairdressing station. Father Dominique was the kindest and a gentle-hearted man. Laura asked me if she could try. I looked at Father Dominique, who nodded yes. She asked him what haircut he wanted; he said a trim. Slowly, though, with a spark in her eye that made me have chills up my spine, she buzzed every hair off his head. Every single hair! He grinned patiently.
Then, with the same daring look in her eye, she asked if she could trim his beard. I held my breath as he said yes. She shaved it off- his beautiful salt and pepper beard was gone! Shyily, Father Dominique asked if she was having fun. Laura giggled. Yes! Haircutting would be an exciting challenge, but I expected it to differ from what was happening.
Then she asked him if she could trim his eyebrows. I shook my head no. But Father Dominique agreed; she shaved them off, and he looked stark naked in a bizarre way.
Father Dominique looked in the mirror and then at Laura, holding the clippers. He slowly stood up, shook the hair off, and said: I must go now. I am certain you will ask me to trim my eyelashes, and I fear I would agree.
Sometimes, the holiest thing we can say is no.
Leave a Reply