My mom battled cancer, and others made fun of her bald head. When I was a kid, I wanted to assist her so much that I did something that astonished everyone 
My father took me to the hospital when my mother began experiencing severe health issues. He said that since my mother would be leaving us, I should bid her farewell. for an extended period.
At the time, I was still a child, so I had no idea where she was heading. I didn’t find out until years later that my mother was battling the most deadly kind of cancer.
When she eventually left the hospital and returned home, I saw that she had lost all of her hair. She had gone bald. Seeing her in that state was uncanny and a little frightening.
I couldn’t contain myself one day and asked:
Where is your hair, Mom?
She gave me a gentle head rub, grinned, and said:
— I interrupted, my love. Simply put, it was too hot. Do you like my new hairstyle?
After a moment, I answered, “Yes,” but you now resemble your father.
Back then, I didn’t realize that her hair had come out because of the “chemo” – the treatment that had saved her life, at least for a while.
However, there was another oddity. I became aware of the strange looks I got from strangers on the bus, in the street, and even from my classmates when my mother resumed dropping me off at school. Some people turned away, some people murmured, and some people even used their phones to snap pictures of her.
I couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps they simply didn’t like her hairstyle.
We were strolling down the street one day when I noticed three females pause and whisper to one another while staring at my mother.
Why are they staring at you that way, Mom? I inquired.
For the first time, Mom paused, gave me a look, and told me the whole truth. Regarding the sickness. Regarding the discomfort. Regarding her concern that she would not live to witness my maturation. And about the true cause of her hair loss.
My entire universe was flipped upside down at that same moment. I came to the realization that I needed to help her in any way I could. And my mother was totally taken aback by what I did to assist her 
I allowed my hair to grow long for a few months. I didn’t care that my classmates made fun of me, called me a girl, and laughed at me. I got the clippers, stood in front of the mirror, and shaved my head all the way down when my hair was long enough.
Then I gathered all my hair into a small plastic bag and brought it to my mom.
— Here, mom, — I said, — this is my hair. Put it on your head.
Mom looked at the bag, laughed at first, and then started crying — tears of happiness. She hugged me so tightly that I’ll remember that hug for the rest of my life.
— You’re my greatest treasure, — she whispered.
A year later, mom passed away. The illness proved stronger. But to this day, I still smile when I remember the day I gave her my hair. 
