I am 4 years old. My parents have just given me the GREATEST birthday present a 4 year old girl could ever hope for : a pink Barbie there are streamers on the handle bars and beads on the wheels that click happily as you ride. There are butterflies and flowers. This….. is a “big kid toy”.

Daddy takes me to learn how to ride. Even with the training wheels, the bike wobbles. I am terrified. I don’t want to fall. I can’t do it. I can’t fall. I won’t fall. I start to cry. Dady tells me that if I don’t stop crying and ride my bike, he will throw it in that dumpster over there. Slowly, I ride home.

By the time I am 5, I don’t ride my bike anymore. I don’t learn to ride without training wheels. I never ask for another bike.

I don’t ride again till I am 12. My friend suggests we bike to the loval TCBY.

“I didn’t bring a bike”

“You can borrow my sister’s”

I don’t want to share my secret. “We didn’t ask and she’s not here.

“She won’t mind.”

I’m out of excuses. “I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

“Really? It’s easy, I’ll teach you.”

And slowly I ride with my best friend to the TCBY. Her easing my fears the whole way. I still don’t like it much and would much rather walk. But, I can ride a bike and that’s all that matters.