Backward Glance

"THE BIKE"

by Max Latimer

It was the Fall of 1948.
The season was creeping toward Christmas.
To the nine year old boy,
Christmas seemed forever distant.
Being good that long would be a severe test.

He yearned for a full sized bicycle,
Even though he knew all too well,
How much they cost,
And how a family of seven,
Had more important needs.

Christmas Eve finally arrived.
Sleep was difficult and brief.
The father announced breakfast was ready.
The attic bedroom was chilly,
And the linoleum emphasized the cold.

Clothes were thrown on.
A dash was made down the stairs.
The parents ate excruciatingly slow.

The double doors were rolled into the wall.
By the tree sat the most beautiful sight,
A full sized bicycle that brought tears.

The bike didn’t have,
A fancy tank with a horn,
Or a chrome shock spring out front.
It was a bike of his very own,
And a dream came true.

How had his parents done this?
How many patches were sewn,
On house dresses and bibbed overalls?
They must have saved for this all year!

The bike would bring many adventures.
The boy’s neighborhood expanded.
His world had gotten larger.
Newspapers would be delivered,
Errands awaited completion.

The small boy would always believe,
In the spirit of Christmas,
And fondly remember Christmas of 1948!