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I didn’t see a poor woman asking for a discount. I saw a mother who had given everything and now just wanted one small moment to feel special.
Restoring Dignity One Touch at a Time
As I washed her silver hair and began to curl it, she told me about her life — how her husband had passed away years ago, how she had raised her children alone, and how she missed hearing someone call her beautiful.
For a moment, she was silent. Then a small, radiant smile spread across her face.
“I look like myself again,” she whispered.
That single sentence broke something open in me. It wasn’t vanity — it was recognition. For the first time in a long time, she saw herself — not a widow, not a struggling mother, but the woman she still was inside.
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