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I was returning a bike to it’s home this morning…left out by a child who, no doubt, was remiss and as I pushed it along the sidewalk I began to reminisce.

Back to when I was a child…remembering what it was like…the day I learned to balance…the day I learned to ride a bike.

I remember the innocence…the freedom…riding without a care…I remember the smile on my face …I remember the wind blowing in my hair.

I’d ride for hours with my friends…friends with whom I’d grown…for once you hopped on your bike in our neighborhood…you never rode alone.

Our bikes took us on adventures that strengthened our hearts and soothed our souls.  We’d only stop to climb a tree…skip some stones…or dive into the swimming hole…

We loved to ride together through the ditches during a rain..
and if we fell and skinned our knees…we just ignored the pain. 

We learned to ride with no hands…down our street and all around…
We’d attach baseball cards to our spokes just to listen to the sound.

For when we heard those baseball cards…on whatever bicycle we were striding…no longer were they bikes…but motorcycles we were riding.

On our bikes is where we learned to be independent…it’s where we learned to pretend…on our bikes is where we learned what it means to be a friend.

At the doorstep of the house I set the bike down…gently on its side…and I thought how different the world is now than it was when I first learned to ride.

I’m not sure it was true…but when I visit those memories again and again and again…wasn’t the world a little kinder, a little gentler, a little more innocent back then?

Perhaps that’s why as I grow older I find it difficult to comprehend…how, though many people still remember how to ride a bike.…they’ve forgotten how to be friends..

How somewhere in the midst of living…they’ve forgotten how to be kind…
How without the  even realizing it…they’ve left their innocence behind…

Which makes me wish more people would remember exactly what it was like…
The day we found our balance…the day we learned to ride a bike.
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