My Chinese-American
friend, Reanne, has the face of a Hollywood Woman Warrior. She
is very beautiful; Reanne’s eyes are warm and brown, set-off by
perfectly defined black eyebrows. I complimented her on her
dramatic brows one day, and she raised them gracefully in
acknowledgment.
“I grew up with the
fuzzy eyebrows typical of many Chinese children” Reanne said.
“They looked like two little caterpillars.” I glanced over at my
7th grader from China, occupied with Harry Potter. Lily is a
lovely girl, and I had always thought her caterpillars were
cute. “My eyebrows,” Reanne continued, “looked just like your
daughter’s!”
I thought about
Reanne’s comments for several months. I help my 17-year-old
daughter with her eyebrow plucking occasionally, but she was
born to me and I was familiar with the territory. Scrutinizing
Lily with new awareness, I realized I wasn’t equipped to ever
help her guide her wild bits of eyebrow into a recognizable
shape. How did Chinese moms handle caterpillars? I called Reanne.
“You must take her
to see Michelle at The Salon,” Reanne advised. “She understands
Asian eyebrows.”
“Don’t you think
Lily is a little young for this kind of thing?” I asked
nervously.
“Get her in,” said
Reanne, “before she’s starts plucking them herself. Or,” she
added ominously, “before a friend gets a hold of them at a
makeover party.”
I asked Lily if she
would like to get her brows shaped before school started, and
she said sure.
“Does it hurt?” she
asked me as an afterthought.
“A little,” I
answered. “But it’s quick.”
A day later, Lily
was dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a Kleenex while
sitting in the eyebrow chair of The Salon. Michelle smiled at
her compassionately, tweezers in hand.
“I’m okay,” Lily
announced through clenched teeth. “I just can’t HELP the tears!”
Lily’s brow shaping
was being watched by three other women who were patiently
waiting their turn.
“You are so brave,
Lily!” one called out.
“It won’t be as
painful next time you do it!” said another.
“I remember my first
time, Lily. You are doing great!” encouraged the third.
Lily beamed from the
group encouragement, but one foot tapped wildly as Michelle
proceeded to pluck. I was a little worried. This would be the
kind of thing that Lily would hold against me for awhile. I was
just trying to be the best Caucasian Asian mom I could be! As
much as I would like to, I can’t always be the role model for my
Chinese daughters; sometimes I need the advice and help of
Chinese women I trust and admire.
“There!” said
Michelle, twirling Lily’s chair around to face the mirror. “I
gave you perfect 11-year-old eyebrows, Lily. What do you think?”
“WOW” Lily and I
both said simultaneously. From caterpillar cuteness sprang
smooth, graceful beauty. I gazed in the mirror at the early
prototype of my daughter’s adult face, and under the approving
murmurs of the other customers, heard the faint flutter of
butterfly wings.
“You look very
pretty,” I said softly. You will be a beautiful woman, I added
silently. You come from beautiful women.
“Can we get ice
cream?” Lily asked, and I quickly agreed. My tweenie is growing
up, but I don’t need to think about letting go. She is still my
caterpillar for a few more years…
Copyright
2006, MacLeod, All Rights Reserved
Jean MacLeod is author of At Home in This World: a China
Adoption Story, and co-editor of Adoption Parenting: Creating a
Toolbox, Building Connections and mother of three daughters, two
of whom were adopted from China through Children’s Hope. From
one adoptive parent to another,Jean shares her wisdom here in
the monthly e-news and as a new feature to the quarterly
Children’s Hope Newsletter.
2007 Children's Hope International.
All rights reserved.