When it’s my turn to shave for St. Baldrick’s

When I get my head shaved, the sound of everything going on will probably be the scariest thing of all. A lot of people will be talking, whooping, laughing.

I hope my shoes don’t click.
I hope I don’t have to pick hair off my shirt.
I hope the person who shaves my head doesn’t cut me on accident.

I will walk up to the chair all brave-like. I’ll sit down and run my hands on my pants to cool them down.
I’ll ruffle my hair next to my ears so I can hear it move one last time.

I’ll listen to myself breathe.
I’ll breathe in a steady way. In, out, in, out, in, out.

I’ll listen to my heart pound in my chest.
I’ll listen for someone to wish me luck, ask me if I’m ready, tell me I’m brave or just say anything.

If someone tells me I’m brave, I’ll listen to myself tell them I’m not brave, the kids with cancer are brave.

I’ll listen to the sharp buzz as the clippers turn on.
I’ll listen to people speak and laugh and shriek as the clipper runs over my scalp.

I’ll listen to myself sigh in relief when it is all over and I’ll listen to everyone breathe as I hug them.
I’ll match their breathing and I’ll listen to my shoes click on the pavement outside.

I’ll listen to the car door slam and the engine turn on.
I’ll listen to the Coldplay CD in our car and finally, I’ll listen to myself think about what I’ll do at school on Monday.

“Anyone who donates is helping each and every child fighting for their lives,” says Anika. “That means anyone from the age of newborn to 19 will get help if they are diagnosed with any kind of cancer.” Will you donate on her head?