My grandma, a retired hairdresser, saved everything, including a bag of old combs she gave me as a teen. They were gross, some with hair or melted edges, but she insisted they held stories. I tucked them away, not understanding.
Years later, lost after high school and failed college courses, I moved in with Grandma. One rainy day, I found the combs again, noticing tiny carvings—initials, dates, symbols. Curious, I asked Grandma, who shared a story about Clara, a client who found comfort in her chair during cancer treatments.
Inspired, I asked Grandma to teach me hairdressing. I practiced, improved, and started a social media page, Combs & Stories, sharing clients’ stories. A video of Grandma talking about Clara’s comb went viral, and people began sending combs with their own stories.
One client, Rachel, turned out to be Clara’s daughter. The emotional reunion connected us to her mom’s memory. Combs & Stories grew, earning media attention and a scholarship to a beauty academy. I opened a salon, Clara & Co., decorating it with combs and their stories.
When Grandma passed at 92, her spirit stayed in the salon. She taught me that small things—like combs—carry love and legacy. Never underestimate them. They might change a life.
