Shiny Blue Bike

Shiny Blue Bike

One day, as summer eased into fall, Daddy told my sister Peggy and me we could have a bike for Christmas if we helped him save up for it. He said the bike would cost fifty dollars. That was a lot of money for us. We were poor country folks. I knew a bike would be a big chunk out of Mom and Dad's budget. But he placed a canning jar on top of the china cabinet, and every night we watched as he emptied the coins from his pockets and listened to their jingle as they bounced around to join the other coins in the jar. Peggy and I scanned our small wood frame house for any coins left lying around on the furniture or hiding under the sofa cushions. Sweeping the floor almost always garnered a few coins. We watched with great anticipation as the coins slowly grew in the jar. Sometimes, I think the experience of scrounging up the coins and watching them multiply in that quart jar was almost as much fun as riding the bike. I tingled with excitement when we helped Daddy count the coins. How much would there be this time? I wondered. Would we have enough by Christmas?

The months creeped past until Christmas Eve finally arrived. We went to bed as early as we dared to so that Christmas morning might come sooner. I lay there, wondering what the new bike looked like. What if Daddy  was unable to buy the bike? What if he hadn't enough money after all? We woke to find our beautiful, shiny blue bike parked next to the Christmas tree. We took turns sitting on it and turning the handles side to side in a mock ride as we imagined what it would feel like to be riding in the breeze. We bundled up with our new Christmas mittens and matching wool caps and ventured outside to give the new bike its first ride. To our dismay, the bike was more difficult to maneuver than we expected. Apparently, this was going to require some training and skill. I was sorely afraid because physical dexterity was not my strong suit.

Later that morning, our cousin Mickey came for a Christmas visit. She was two years younger than I, but she got on our bike and rode like a champion. There was no way I was going to let my baby cousin outshine me with my own bike. I continued to struggle with the bike the rest of the day, determined to prove I could do anything my younger cousin could do. 

As the daylight yielded to the night, we were invited to spend a week with our cousin and took the bike with us. For the next two days we practiced, stopping only for meals and a few breaks on her backyard swing (we didn't have one). Mickey would ride her bike around and around her house. Peggy and I would take turns falling and getting back on our bike all around her house. My thighs were black and blue from the handle bars twisting side to side as I tried to gain control of the rogue bike. I didn't care; I didn't even feel the bruises.

On the third day, a magical thing happened. I rode the whole length of one side of the house without falling. What a thrill that was! I could ride a bike! Once I knew I could do it, nothing would stop me from riding around and around until I could make the whole circumference of the house without falling. I was a bike rider, a rider of bikes. I rode bikes. I could go anywhere on my bike. I was empowered!

That bike lasted Peggy and me into our high school years. I learned the joy of riding and just thinking about things. I could get away from the noise of a family of eight, hop on my bike and just ride and think. I can still feel that cool wind brush across my face and toss my hair in all directions. That bike meant a lot to me. It was my first experience at saving up for something. I learned that working for something you want and saving for it can be half the fun. It taught me that I could conquer anything if I was determined and willing to put forth the effort required. Come to think of it, that bike was a real bargain when you consider what all it taught me. 

Pat Nelson
August 10, 2012
Word Count: 715
We were to tell a story about the first time we did something. It's a great contest! Give it a try.
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