This was the day Kimmie had anticipated for what seemed like her whole life. Today she would get her very own bicycle. She had heard other people talk about their bicycles. How having a bike had changed their lives; how it was the greatest thing ever. And now, she would have one of her very own. At last it arrived, sparkling and new. At first it was as great as everyone had said, but over time things changed. Instead of making her life wonderful, it was becoming somewhat of a burden. She tried to pretend that she still loved it, and she was so afraid to tell her parents how she really felt. But, soon it became obvious. She no longer wanted her bike. It was just too hard.
Then one day, her grandma, who lived far away, called her on the phone. They exchanged some small talk and then finally her grandma said, “Kimmie, how are you liking your bicycle?” There was a long pause and grandma could here Kimmie sniffling on the other end. “Grandma” she finally said with a quivering voice, “I wish I never had a bicycle. It has practically ruined my life.” Grandma paused and then said, “Why don’t you explain it to me.”
“Well,” said Kimmie, “at first I was so excited. I heard so much about bicycles as a child. I thought that I couldn’t live without one. The first couple of months were fine. Everyone admired my bike and I was so proud. But then my arms started to get so tired.” “Your arms?” Grandma questioned. “Yes, grandma, you should see them. They are getting so stiff, and my shoulders are covered in bruises, and I can hardly walk because my back hurts all the time?” “But what about the freedom your bike has given you?” said Grandma. “Freedom?” Kimmie retorted. “Grandma, my bike has given me anything but freedom. It takes me forever to get anywhere, and there are just so many places I can’t go. My bike has practically made me a prisoner.”
“Kimmie, I don’t think I’m understanding you. I thought you would tell me about the rush of the wind in your hair, and the freedom to go father than you ever had before.” “Grandma, how could I go anywhere or feel any kind of wind while I am carrying this bike?” “What do you mean, ‘Carrying this bike.’” Grandma responded. “I know what you’re going to say, Grandma, I could always push my bike. But I just go tired of slumping over it while I pushed it, so I started carrying it. It hasn’t been all bad, my legs are a little stronger than they were before.”
“Kimmie, have you ever noticed that your bike has a seat?” “Yes, grandma. But it isn’t really that comfortable, even though the footrests are adjustable. I’ve found it easier to just put the bike down and sit next to it.” There was a long pause and Kimmie was worried that she had hurt her Grandma’s feelings. “Grandma, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. A lot of my friends have decided to just leave their bikes, but I won’t. I said I wanted this bike, and I’m going to carry it to the end, even if it kills me.” Kimmie waited and could here grandma sniffling on the other end. “Kimmie, that seat isn’t for just sitting and those footrests are actually pedals. With a good push, some practice, and a few crashes, you can learn to ride that bike.” “What? Are you kidding me” said Kimmie. “No.” said Grandma. “I am telling you the truth. You see, you were never meant to carry that bicycle. It was meant to carry you!”
Love, Ryan and Angie Eggett