The Devil Hairbrush

From the scriptures we learn that we are to pray over everything that happens to us in our lives. In the book of Alma we are admonished to:

"[C]ry unto him for mercy; for he is mighty to save. Yea, humble yourselves, and continue in prayer unto him. Cry unto him when ye are in your fields, yea, over all your flocks. Cry unto him in your houses, yea, over all your household, both morning, mid-day, and evening. Yea, cry unto him against the power of your enemies. Yea, cry unto him against the devil, who is an enemy to all righteousness. Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them. Cry over the flocks of your fields, that they may increase. But this is not all; ye must pour out your souls in your closets, and your secret places, and in your wilderness. Yea, and when you do not cry unto the Lord, let your hearts be full, drawn out in prayer unto him continually for your welfare, and also for the welfare of those who are around you" (Alma 34:18-27).

I had an experience that taught me that there really is nothing too small to ask the Lord for help with, and that help can come immediately, as the following letter to my missionary son illustrates:

Dear Spencer,

I had an interesting experience this past week. I have what is called a round brush, called that because it’s round. Personally, I think they’re evil, and you will, too, after you hear this story. They use them in salons, and, considering how they’re always in the store when you go there, I suppose normal people must use them, too. I’ve bought them several times (usually after going to the salon and watching the lady use it on me, and thinking, mistakenly, that if I buy one, I can make my hair look like it did when I walked out of the salon). So I have several on hand. Well the other day, I was having a hard time getting my hair to look like I wanted it to, so I decided to get out the round brush and give it a try. Now, there’s a trick to using these, I think, but I’ve never figured it out, which is why I only try them every few years. Then I forget about the experience until the next time I go to use it, when I’m reminded again, and the brush goes back into the drawer for another couple of years. The idea, as I understand it, is that you’re supposed to (well, not YOU, per se, but people with enough hair to want to try this) be able to wrap your hair in a curve as you focus the blow dryer on it, and then let it out smoothly, so it stays in the curved shape. What invariably happens to me is that I wrap it around and the bristles catch onto the hair they’re not supposed to be catching onto, kind of like those burrs outside that get all stuck in your shoelaces. When the person dumb enough to be using this brush, OK, I admit it, it’s me…When I try to unwind the brush, it doesn’t unwind and the brush gets stuck in my hair. Well, luckily this time I didn’t get quite that far, and it only got slightly stuck, and wasn’t too hard to untangle. I decided then and there that it was just time to throw out all 3 of those brushes, because I just am not coordinated enough to use them. So, I went out and left the brush sitting on the counter in the bathroom. A few hours later, Sarah finds me (not that I was necessarily hiding, although, after what happened, it wouldn’t have been a bad idea), and says that Hannah needs to talk to me. I asked what she wanted and she mentions something about hair and a brush. I got this sick feeling in my stomach, and soon found it to be completely justified. I found Hannah, whose hair, as you might remember, is nearly down to her waist, with the hairbrush completely wrapped up in her hair with no conceivable way to extricate it. I’m pretty sure Hannah is part mouse—you know how you can set traps out for them and they always get caught, eventually, because they have to go everywhere? Well, Hannah seems to have to touch everything there is. So I’m sitting on the couch with her sitting in front of me, trying to untangle that jungle, and she’s crying because it hurts, and I’m vacillating back and forth between sympathy, and trying not to keep asking her what she was thinking, knowing that thinking doesn’t have anything to do with why children do what they do. I finally realized that my only option was probably going to be to have to cut her hair, and that wouldn’t have been pretty. The one side would have been cut clear to her scalp. I finally said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to please help me solve this problem. Very shortly I was given the brilliant idea to get the pliers and pull the (teeth, tines, what do you call those pokey things in a brush, anyway?) out of the brush until the hair could slip off the brush. So I did. One by one I pulled those critters out of that brush, Hannah still not enjoying herself, as each one would finally give way with a jerk causing the brush to poke her in the head. I tried to shield her as best I could, but it wasn’t easy. To her credit, she suffered mostly in silence, but I really was feeling for her. I’m happy to report that the idea worked and I was finally able to slide her hair off the brush. It didn’t seem that she had lost all that much hair, until I started brushing it out, and then it came out in bunches. Luckily, she has lots and you can’t tell that she just went through this hair-raising trauma, and she seems none the worse for wear. That brush is now in the garbage, rendered harmless, and as I’m thinking about it, I think I’ll hurry and go find the other ones, before someone beats me to it. Moral: Prayer works. (There’s probably another moral or two in there having something to do with hairbrushes, but I want to keep this on a spiritual note.)