Abitha would never forget the first time her mother allowed her to hold it. Her mother had tapped the last loop in the line and told Abitha that loop was hers, that the next was her mother’s, then her grandmother’s, great-grandmother’s and so on all the way back twelve generations. She touched the bottom rung and said, “One day, when you’re ready, you will join all your mothers and your hair will be added here.”
