Rosa Ramirez had worn her hair like a protective curtain for most of her life, a 1.5-meter river of dark strands that brushed her calves and sometimes tangled beneath her feet. It was part of her identity, a familiar weight on her back, a quiet reassurance in the mirror. Letting it go meant risking the unknown, exposing a face she herself barely recognized without it. Yet when she learned about Locks of Love and the children who had lost every strand to cancer, her fear began to look small.
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