Thursday, July 22, 2004

Magic Carpets

As you can tell from the lack of new blogs, I haven't been spending much time at the old computer these days. We are having so much fun on our new bikes that not much of anything else is getting done at all. The garden needs work, and the house is just getting a lick and a promise, but we are enjoying our time outside completely. If the sun is shining, we are out on the trails.

I am sure things will level out in a little while, but for now, we feel like kids again and it is just fun to take this trip "on our bikes" down memory lane. I can remember getting my first new bicycle. Can you?

I was 7 years old and looking forward to my 8th birthday. I loved to roller skate and bike and always wanted to be out on one or the other of them. I had my own roller skates, but I had to borrow an old rattletrap of a bike from a neighbour. I could skate whenever I wanted to, but had to wait for precious time on the bike. I taught myself to ride on that old bike, and once I got the knack of it and felt that freedom of flying like the wind along the streets, I was hooked. I never wanted to get off and come back down to earth, but it wasn’t my bike, so my rides were always too short and too few. My neighbour would wait impatiently for me to return, so she could reclaim her “magic carpet” and fly away on it by herself, while I stood firmly planted on the curb watching and longing for my own magic carpet.

My 8th birthday was going to be a special one because I was having an after school party that day, with eight of my friends from school. I was sooooooo excited. I received gifts from my family that morning before I left for school, and that started the day off on the right (or wrong) foot. I could hardly concentrate on any learning that day. My head was spinning with thoughts of all the gifts I had received that morning, and the grand and glorious party to come in the afternoon.

At 3pm, girls all gussied up in party dresses, carried brightly wrapped gifts, and walked home with me after school. We chatted and giggled as we walked along and were in high spirits indeed.

My mother had the kitchen decorated and snacks were waiting for us to nibble on. We had games to play, and prizes to be won. What fun. I could hardly take my eyes off the gift table though. All those gifts were for me. What were they? How delicious to look at them and anticipate opening them. Not yet though. Wait, I must wait.

We had supper, then the cake topped with lit candles, was carried to the table with great ceremony and accompanied by the singing of Happy Birthday to You!

We ate cake and ice cream and finally it was time to open the gifts. The anticipation and excitement had grown to an almost impossible level. I am sure the presents would not have been as much fun to open if I hadn’t had the joy of anticipation, all that day leading up to this moment.

I finished opening the gifts and didn’t think things could get any better than this, when I caught sight of my dad out of the corner of my eye. He was walking into the room with a brand new blue and white bicycle at his side. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A brand new bike! For me! Blue and white, and sparkling and new! For me! A bike I could use without asking anyone else for permission. A bike I could fly like the wind on and call my own. A bike I could ride more than once around the block and not have to give back. My own magic carpet. I was over the moon with joy.

Here I sit, 50 years later, and it seems like that just happened yesterday. I can still see that bike and experience all those feelings of joy. Now, when I get on my new bike, I go forward and backward in time. I am that 8-year-old girl again, riding her magic carpet, but I am also the 50-year-old woman, moving into a new phase of her life. A life made rich with all these wonderful memories. I continue to dream my dreams and let my imagination soar as I ride into my future anticipating what is waiting for me there.

We are never too old to hop on our magic carpets and dream our dreams. Come on, hop on yours and join me for a ride. It is bound to be a blast. Up Up and away!


Butterfly said...

Good Post. I can still remember my first bike too! I remember teaching myself to ride on someone else's bike in the church parking lot next door. What fun. Not too long after I remember looking out the kitchen window and seeing MY Dad walking a brand new bright blue Raleigh bike up the driveway. How excited I was!

Butterfly said...

By the way. I think you've changed the look of your blog right? I like it.