Keep Me Steady

      Once there was a little boy. One day, his father told him that there was a present for on the back of the family's truck. The little boy was very excited. He ran out to the garage and there in the back of the truck was a big, shiny blue bike. His eyes went wide. This was exactly what he had wanted for his birthday! The boy climbed up into the truck and tried to grab the bike to bring it down. It didn't budge.

      "Hmm," the boy thought. "How can I get this down?" The father smiled. "You can do it," he said. "You just have to be resourceful." The boy nodded. "Right. I'll use everything I have." So first, the little boy tried using absolutely all of his muscle power. He grabbed the shiny blue bike firmly and heaved backwards. It left the ground for just a moment and the boy swung it a little closer to the edge. "I'm doing it! I've just got to use everything I have!" He did it again. This time, the boy was too tired to lift it off the ground. He collapsed onto the bed of the truck in a heap. "Well, that got me a few inches. What else do I have to use?"

    The boy rested a moment. "I know! I'll just use my brain this time!" So, the boy ran around the garage collecting things. The father watched, interested to see what his son was up to. Soon, the boy had finished his construction. He shoved down on one end of a shovel, which hoisted the bike up into the air. Then, he was able to kick it a bit more towards the tailgate. He was pleased to see it move about six inches... but then, to his great dismay, it fell over! The boy gasped, then tried his best to pick it back up again. With great heaving and huffing and puffing, he was able to set it back upright. He inspected the side of it. It wasn't very damaged, but he was crushed to see a scuff mark on the side of the seat. The little boy sat down on the tailgate, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. The father came and stood in front of him.

    "Son," he said. "What's wrong?" The boy sniffled, wiping his nose against his sleeve. "I tried!" he said, his voice cracking from the tears. "I really did! I used everything I had! You were wrong!" he cried through the sniffles. "I can't do it."

    The father sat on the edge of the truck. "Actually, you didn't use everything you had." The boy was frustrated now. "What?!? What could I possibly have used?" The father sighed. "Me." The boy looked puzzled, so his dad kept explaining.

    "I've been sitting here this whole time, and you never once used the most valuable thing you have: people who love you." The boy crossed his arms. "But I want to do it by myself!" The father shrugged. "I understand that. You've got independence and strength. That's to be respected and admired. I won't do it for you. If you can't do it, you don't deserve the bike." The boy looked like he might start crying again.

    The man continued. "But you don't have to ignore me just to say you did it alone." The boy nodded, wiping his eyes. The father smiled. "Go stand behind the bike." The boy did. The father put one hand under the handlebars. "Now lift up that end and walk it over here." The boy did. The bike was easily lifted up and carried to the tailgate. The boy climbed down, reaching up to grab the bike as they lowered it gently to the garage floor. "Now," the father asked. "Did you do it?" The boy pondered the question. "Well, it's not on the truck any more. But I didn't do it by myself." He sighed. "I guess I don't deserve the bike." The father closed the tailgate. "Nonsense!" His son protested. "But you said if I couldn't do it, I didn't deserve the bike!" The father shrugged. "I certainly didn't do it. I didn't even do half of it; All I did was keep you steady." The boy sat down on the bike. "Keep me steady?" The father nodded.

    The boy wasn't yet satisfied. "Dad?" The man leaned against the tailgate. "What is it?" The little boy absentmindedly fiddled with the grips of his new bike, unsure of how to ask his question. "What if you're not there? What if I'm alone? You can't always keep me steady. What if you're not there and I have to do it without anyone?"

    The man wiped his hands on his pants, thinking carefully. "When we first walked out here, I told you that you could do it if you used everything you had. Did you believe me?" The boy thought a moment, then nodded. "That's why I tried so hard."

    "Well," the father said. "You always have that guaruntee. No matter what you're up against, and no matter what you have to do, you have a complete guaruntee that there is always a way to handle it. Bad things happen, and sometimes you have to change your way of thinking, or even change yourself so you can go on fighting and doing what you need to do. But if you use everything you have, there is no reason to be scared." He put his arm around his son. "By the time I'm gone, you won't need me. Even after I am gone, you may think you do. But the fact that I'm not there to steady you is a complete guaruntee that you don't need me."

    The boy nodded, trying to understand. "And besides," his father continued, "You can fall sometimes. I've done it; it's not the end of the world." A quiet moment passed. "All righty!" the father said. "Let's try this puppy out! You think you need some training wheels?" The boy shook his head. "I wanna see if I really need 'em first." The father smiled. "Fair enough."