People always want to know how we chose
the name Hagalina for our darling daughter.
Well, she simply looked like a Hagalina.
You would’ve done the same.

Let me tell you about this unique bride.
When she was a child, as her hair grew,
two hairs stood out, literally. One black,
one red, black like a black marker and red
like a red marker, not red like red hair.
Red like a stop sign, a crayon, a fire truck.
She was beautiful.

No braces could fix her teeth—we tried!
They mostly lined up in rows, but one
would swivel, right in front of us, we could
watch it happen, it swiveled toward north,
and a lower tooth swiveled the exact
opposite way. As she turned, they turned,
like the needle of a compass. We thought
it was a miracle, though not a very useful one,
and she got to be on TV, and orthodontists
came calling and then ran away when
they saw the extent of the situation,
the power of her mouth-bones.

Now today upon her wedding
to handsome Fred Logan from up the street
we celebrate our little girl,
all grown up and out of the nest,
and we toast her, everything about her.
We love you so much, Hagalina!

And now I’ll end my speech so Hagalina’s brother
can sing the song he wrote about her.

It’s really good. We think you’ll like it.
It’s catchy.

[Author's Note: the camp song "Hagalina Magalina" goes by multiple titles and exists in multiple variations. The earliest printed reference I've found is from 1955. This poem is part of a project in which I come up with imaginary origins for various kinds of folklore. More information here.]