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Show Chapter Nine Oh, what a day that was! Hair on my head again! It's awful for a girl to be without hair-a man can get bald, but it just isn't the same for a girl. And red hair, too! Isn't that a do-flicky? Mama's pleased, though, I can tell. I'm the only one of her brood that's got her red hair. Somehow, now that I have hair on my head again, I feel better. Maybe it's the end of the bad part and it will all start to get better from here. I'm no closer to what's going to straighten out these legs, but I'm working on it. The answer seems to dance in the air all around me but I can't pull it out yet. One of these days, though . . . The red bristles became a mop of curly, auburn hair much like Mama's had been in her younger days. The appearance of a new head of hair seemed to bring Nettie back to her normal high spirits and with renewed determination she studied and stewed about overcoming the paralysis of her legs. The wheelchair in the corner remained an ominous presence and it became a symbol to Nettie. Each time she saw the chair it hardened her resolve to find some way to walk again. Christmas came and went with Nettie still in bed. Nettie could sit up and even help Mama peel potatoes and other small chores. Often Papa carried Nettie to the organ where much of her frustration and anguish could be smoothed away with the calm- |