Christmas in May
One morning in May many years ago, my sister Evelyn and I awoke to find two used (or in today’s language, “pre-owned”) bicycles, standing at bicycle attention near the front porch of our small house. One was a girl’s bicycle, the other a boy’s. Daddy had gone to see his grandmother and aunt that live approximately 25 miles from us. Aunt Dicie worked for a family whose children had outgrown the bikes. Daddy was interested, so Aunt Dicie took him to meet the family and to see the bikes. Knowing my Dad as I did, he either negotiated the price, or he thought it was a deal he could not pass up. He bought the bicycles.
Daddy’s arrival at home was after dark, so we had no chance of seeing the bicycles before the next morning. We really did go to bed with the chickens. I still remember the screams of joy, the jumping up and down; our excitement could not be contained. We learned to ride with our mother’s help. Then we rode everywhere we could, when time permitted, with the freedom of innocence and appreciation. We took full responsibility for the care of the bicycles; we cleaned them and always kept them out of the elements. We were so proud of those bicycles. We rode them for years before they were passed down to younger siblings.
The bicycles rivaled any Christmas present we ever received during our young and adolescent years, proving the Christmas spirit can come anytime throughout the year when gifts, tangible or intangible, are given with love from the heart.
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