Eventually everything old and worn out ends up at the dump. I just hope my children don’t adopt the dump-the-grump philosophy when I get old, because I would hate for my last meal to be a half-rotted banana eaten in the back of a mostly rotted Chevy.
That would be sad.
Unfortunately summer birthed the death of my son’s bicycle. The cost of repair outweighed the cost of a new bike, and his once treasured mode of transportation was reduced to scrap metal. For a time he traversed the neighborhood on foot; however, his lust for wheels was intense, reducing him to borrowing his sister’s rarely available, pink bicycle. Soon he discovered a young neighborhood boy trashing his own vintage (I use the word vintage to give this hunk of rust worth.) bike, and embarked on the long and arduous task of restoration. I am certain this bike will be restored in less time than it took Noah to build the ark, but maybe only by hours.
When my daughter’s bike was stolen, the loss affected the entire family. My daughter’s right to private property had been violated, and my son’s back-up wheels vanished. If you are a parent, you will understand that their whining and fussing immobility nearly made FringeMan and I lobby Congress for tougher bike theft laws.
First offense – Loss of appendages (ALL fingers)
Second offense – Loss of legs
Third offense – Death
Before I could chop any fingers, bikes began rolling in two-by-two. I repented of my heartless and unusually cruel thoughts of punishment, then pardoned our bike thief. How could I be angry when so many were being so kind?
First I received an email from Debra at Loyalist Cottage. Her generosity and goodness towards my daughter and family touched me in a special way. She told me she was sending money to buy FringeKid a new bike. I meant every word of yesterday’s post. Sometimes it’s hard to receive a gift like that, even for your child. Immediately I thought of a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t send me the money.
Number One Reason: The bike was a piece of $15 junk.
She told me to go buy the entire family $15 bikes if I wanted, but she was sending the money. There are many kind and wonderful people in blogland, but Debra is extra-special. I’ve enjoyed getting to know her a little through emails and being introduced to her daughter over at Broken Poet. I cannot thank her enough for giving of herself to bless my daughter in a very special way.
Right after the email of blessing, my husband got a phone call from some friends asking us to stop by their house. They gave us an extra microwave (see yesterday’s post for microwave story), and their young teenage son gifted my daughter his old bike. This young man’s tender heart blessed us so much more than words can express. FringeKid was elated to have immediate wheels, but couldn’t quite coordinate the workings of hand brakes. FringeBoy knows how to ride and more importantly, stop with hand brakes.
Sadness became joy; theft became blessing. Both kids got a new bike. Thieves everywhere will be spared cruel and unusual punishment.