As he sat at the kitchen table, drinking the hot chocolate that his mother had made him, he thought about what his friends had said.
It had started out as just a normal game of catch but then they’d started calling him names. He was born with bright red hair. No one else in his family had red hair. His mother’s hair was light brown and his father’s had been blonde before it had fallen out.
They had played together many times but today Gavin had pointed at his hair and shouted “Carrots!” Then the others joined in.
He ran home crying. His mother had just sat him down and made him some hot chocolate.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she sat down next to her little boy.
“So, what upset you? Tell Mummy all about it” She coaxed.
He told her about them calling him names.
“You don’t think I’m ugly because I’ve got red hair, do you?”
“No, I don’t and I don’t think they do either, they just latched on to that because they wanted to feel superior to you. The best thing you can do is to go out there and let them see it doesn’t bother you. When they realise you aren’t upset, they’ll stop it soon enough.”
“But why am I the only boy with red hair?”
“There are plenty of redheads in the world, you just haven’t seen them and neither have they. Do you think God created us with just brown hair? He has a far more eclectic mind than that. People have lots of different coloured hair, some as black as soot and others a pale as moonlight. All different, and yet also the same.”
“What colour hair do you admire the most?”
“Your Father had fair hair, the colour of a wheat-field ready for harvesting when I first knew him. That’s probably my favourite. Anyway, I can’t sit here jabbering on all morning. You finished your Chocolate?”
“Well go out and play dear. Go on, Skedaddle.”
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 04/February/2019