But then I saw I didn’t have to. What mother lets her daughter’s headband fall off? I adjusted the bow. She threw up. I could deal with that. It would be okay. I just had to tuck her hair into her headband, and all would be fine.

We got There. We signed in, and a sweet lady commented on how gorgeous Chany is. She is, and so is her headband. Really, I told myself, there was no way the doctor would even think of putting a cast on my beautiful little girl.

As we wait, Chany’s headband falls to the side. I move it back purposefully. We’re called into a room, and the headband looks droopy. I adjust it. We wait in the room. And wait. And wait. Chany starts to cry. I fix the headband. She starts to scream and pulls the headband off. I gently calm her as I readjust it. It’s still there. We’re all fine.

The doctor enters the room. He looks at my husband. He looks at me. He looks at the patient. “We need to do an ultrasound, Mom, you hold her head.” I hold my little daughter’s head. She screams, she flails, and she throws the headband off. The doctor talks about potential surgery. He mentions the splint that she’ll need for a year. The headband gets picked up from the floor.

“We don’t need this, right?” a nurse asks.

I look away from my sobbing daughter and the medical entourage in the room. “No, we don’t.” The headband gets carelessly pushed into the bottom of the bag. The sheaf of papers and test results get piled on top.

Really, it’s okay. She’ll wear a brace. She’ll grow up. She’ll be fine. And no, she doesn’t need that headband. It was too small anyway.

I get home, exhausted, but fine, totally fine. I put the kids to sleep. I clean up from the long day. I try to be grateful for the blessings in my life. Suddenly there is a knock at the door. My sister comes bearing gifts, a little something for my beautiful princess.

It’s a headband.

Things will be alright, after all. Sometimes, a headband contains all the love in the world.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 814)