My two eldest sons are redheads or what now seems to be more commonly called “gingers”. My youngest two children are brunettes. I sometimes break them down to the “reds” and the “browns.” When you have a big family, you’re always shortening things, categorizing; it’s just easier that way. My husband and I are both brunettes so we were a little bit surprised, at first when our first little ginger was born.
It turns out that both my husband and I carry the recessive gene for red hair. It’s the only way a “ginger” can occur. Only 2 percent of the world’s population are natural redheads. Unfortunately, there are thoughts that someday, due to the fact that the recessive gene could go extinct, red-headed people will be a thing of the past. How sad that would be! My sons both have brown eyes, but if you are a natural redhead with blue eyes, you have the rarest combination on the face of the earth. How lovely and special!!
I’ve always been attracted to redheaded people since I was a little girl. The fact was so obvious, that when I was a little girl, my mother cut out a magazine article featuring redheaded children and she wrote, “Your future kids . . . ” on top of the article. She was right! I think redheaded people just exude warmth! It’s not just their hair, it’s their whole energy field. They radiate a fiery passion that just glistens out to the ends of their hair reminding us of just how exciting life can be.
I read once that you can’t be anonymous and be a redhead. I believe that. I bet that there are very few redheaded spies. My eldest son won the yearbook senior superlative, “Most Likely To Always Be Remembered.” He’s 6’2″ with a headful of curly red hair and a big, deep, loud laugh. We took our eldest son to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico when he was two and when we were touring the local town, the elderly women would come up to him to touch his hair for luck. He happily obliged. He knows that he is lucky.
When we are young we want to “fit in”, melt in with the crowd. I think redheaded people are blessed in knowing that they just don’t “blend in,” right from the very beginning so they don’t ever get caught up in that nonsense of sameness. Now that I’m 47, I think I feel more internally redheaded in that sense, than I ever have been. I like being an individual. I feel more confident “owning” who I am. Of course, at my age, my real hair color has become a mystery thanks to the marvels of my stylist, but if I ever get bored, red might be the color to try.