Tonight Katie (9) went out to play with Abby (3). They decided to ride bikes. Abby got on her Dora helment, stradled her bike, and sat still as a statue. It would seem that in the midst of our crazy life, I have forgotten to teach her to ride her bike she got for Christmas. Sweet Katie worked with her on pedaling and before the night was done, Abby was riding up and down the driveway.
Watching them from the window as I washed dishes reminded me of my first bike ride. The bike was red. My dad tried and tried to teach me to ride. I fell more than I rode for the longest time. Then I finally took off.
Nothing could stop me then. The speed was like nothing I had experienced before. I would zip up and down our long driveway, slamming on my brakes at the last minute to see how much gravel I could throw up into the air.
That red bike was the gateway to incredible dreams. I was in a spaceship, or driving a racecar, or piloting a fighter jet, or riding a horse, or outrunning a tornado - depending on the day. I sailed away to extraordinary lands many days on that bike.
I eventually outgrew the red bike, and became a normal girl - worried about hair, makeup, and boys. But somewhere deep down there is a part of me that still longs and waits for great adventure. Adventure that I once found on a red bike.