This is the story that I used as a "starter" for the Senior Citizens that I worked with for June's Intergenerational Storytelling Workshops, sponsored by Arts on Wheels, in conjunction with the Richmond YMCAs.
The Seniors shared their stories with middle school students, who then transcribed the stories and created an illustrated cover that highlighted "the most important thing" about the story. Elaina Fejes was the gifted young artist who worked with the students on their illustrations.
Both the Seniors and the students enjoyed this process and are eager to do it again.
The Best Birthday Present Ever!
© 2012 Linda Goodman
In
February 1962, a few days before my tenth birthday, my father said to me,
“Linda, your tenth birthday is a special birthday because it marks the end of
your first decade in this world and the beginning of your second one. What
would you like as your present on your special day?”
On all
of my prior birthdays, I had awakened in the morning to find a present waiting
for me on the kitchen table. Sometimes I
got paper dolls. Sometimes I got a board game.
Sometimes I got a book (my favorite present - I loved to read). I had never
before been asked what I actually wanted, though. Without hesitating, I
squealed, “A bicycle! I want a bicycle
for my special birthday!”
Few
kids in my neighborhood had bicycles, but those who did made good use of them.
Boys would put baskets on the front of their bikes and get jobs delivering the
daily newspaper. Some kids used their bicycle baskets to carry home groceries
for people who could not make it to the store themselves. A bicycle could quickly (much more quickly
than walking) get me to wherever I needed to go.
My
father did not seem to share my enthusiasm for the bicycle, though. His eyes
ceased to twinkle and took on a worried appearance when he heard my request.
“Let me think on that,” he responded. I
knew that meant that my request would most likely not be granted.
The
next day, after supper, Daddy took me aside and said, “Linda, I stopped by the
Roses Five and Dime Store today, and the cheapest bicycle I could find there
cost $15.95. There is no way that I can get that much money together before
your birthday.
Even
though I had expected this, I still had to bite my lower lip to keep from
crying. “Yes, Sir,” I whispered. “I
understand.”
“Now don’t
despair, Linda Sue!” Daddy urged, cupping his hand under my chin. As I looked
into his gray eyes, I could see that their twinkle was back. “If you're
willing to wait for six months,” he offered, “ I will put away $2.50 every month, and in
August I can buy you that bicycle. Can you wait that long?”
“Yes!”
I gleefully shouted. “I can wait! I can wait a year if I have to.”
Since
my baby sister Evelyn’s seventh birthday was in August, Daddy and Momma decided
we would have a dual birthday. There were two cakes, chocolate for me and
yellow for Evelyn. There was a gallon of chocolate ice cream (we both declared
chocolate to be our favorite ice cream flavor). Best of all, we each got an ice cold sixteen
ounce Lotta Cola, all to ourselves.
Evelyn
opened her present first: Barbie paper dolls! She was ecstatic! She loved
Barbie, who at that time sported a long blond pony tail and did not have an
occupation.
After
that, Daddy excused himself to go see a neighbor. Five minutes later, he came back through the
front door, escorting a hot pink,
twenty-six inch girl’s bicycle! It had a silver seat, a white wire basket, and
a horn! I jumped up and down with excitement.
It was definitely worth the wait.
I gave
both Daddy and Momma bear hugs, all the while chanting, “Thank you! Thank you!
Thank you!” It was the best birthday ever!
Until I noticed my baby sister Evelyn, standing by my new bike, crying.
If she
had been sobbing loudly or throwing a fit, I would have had no sympathy for her.
After all, that is what a spoiled child does. But Evelyn was just standing
there, looking at my bike, with her lower lip quivering and threaded
waterfalls flowing freely from her eyes.
Then
she turned those eyes on me. “Sissy,” she whimpered, “I’m glad you got a
bicycle. It’s real nice.”
Something
inside me melted. I got a tissue and wiped her eyes. “You know what, Evelyn?” I said gently. “I do
a lot of homework, and I can’t ride a bicycle when I’m doing homework. So if
you don’t mind, we can share that bicycle.”
What a
joy to see the smile that spread across her face as she realized what I was
telling her!
“Oh,
Sissy!” she cried as she threw her arms
around my waist. “You are always so nice to me!” The fact that I was not always nice to her did not bother me. All that
mattered was how good I felt at that moment.
As I
returned her hug, I looked at my father, and he winked at me. I knew that wink meant that he was proud of
what I had done. And that was an even
better birthday present than the bicycle!
