Vintage Girls Bicycle by Lee Ellen Shoemaker

“Santa didn’t have a very big budget this year,” my mother said as we strung a few lights on the short, straggly tree. We usually had a tree that reached from floor to ceiling, but lots of things had changed since Daddy died. This tree was free. A leftover from the closing Christmas tree lot.

I still believed in Santa Claus, sort of. But Mom had explained that Santa’s ability to bring presents somehow depended on a family’s budget. I visualized Santa crossing off items from a store register tape.

I so much wanted a bicycle. All summer long I paid a boy in the schoolyard a quarter each time to let me use his bicycle while he played softball. I used my pop bottle return earnings. It was hard to straddle the bar on a boy’s bike but I kept at it. I coaxed anyone who had a bike to let me practice. By the time school started in September, I hardly ever fell. I knew Santa wouldn’t be bringing me a bike this year, but I was ready.

My little brother and I woke up early Christmas morning. We were supposed to wait until Mommy said it was OK to look under the tree for Santa’s gifts. I wondered what I would find. I knew there would not be a bicycle for me.

My brother rushed ahead and climbed into the beautiful red Radio Flyer wagon. He reared his body back and forth to make the wagon roll a little in our living room.

Sparkling chrome handlebars reflected the Christmas tree lights. Then I saw it. Emerald green frame and fenders with white trim and pin strips. A brand new J.C. Higgins bicycle!

I stroked the handlebars from one hand grip to the other. I patted the leather seat. I raised the kickstand with my foot and lifted my leg over the seat. I stayed perfectly balanced on my bicycle without touching the floor.

And then I cried.