At dusk Sarah cut Caleb's hair on the front steps, gathering his curls and scattering them on the fence and ground. Seal batted some hair around the porch as the dogs watched.
"Why?" asked Caleb.
"For the birds," said Sarah. "They will use it for their nests. Later we can look for nests of curls."
"Sarah said 'later,'" Caleb whispered to me as we spread his hair about. "Sarah will stay."
Sarah cut Papa's hair, too. No one else saw, but I found him behind the barn, tossing the pieces of hair into the wind for the birds.
Sarah brushed my hair and tied it up in back with a rose velvet ribbon she had brought from Maine. She brushed hers long and free and tied it back, too, and we stood side by side looking in the mirror. I looked taller, like Sarah, and fair and thin. And with my hair pulled back I looked a little like her daughter. Sarah's daughter."
Sarah, Plain and Tall