Learning to Ride

Chester edged cautiously toward John, who held the bicycle upright. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” said John. “I’ll be right beside you.”

“The whole way?”

“The whole way.”

Still apprehensive, Chester stared at the handlebars for a moment before wrapping his fingers around the grips.

“Go ahead,” urged John. “Climb on.”

Chester gave the bike a bit of a wiggle, to test its stability. Satisfied, he eased a leg over the tube and lowered his foot onto the pedal. “That’s it,” said John.

“Don’t let go,” Chester pleaded.

“I won’t, I promise.” John shuffled toward the front, just to give Chester a clearer view of the strong hands that held the bike motionless. “Now just slide onto the seat,” he said, and put your other foot on the other pedal. It’s that simple.”

“I hope so.” Chester’s voice wavered, but he did as John had instructed, and in a moment was sitting on a bicycle for the first time in his life.

“See?” said John. “It’s easy.”

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t. Now hold on tight.” Slowly, John guided the bike down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.

Chester tightened his grip on the handlebars. "Don’t let go yet.” But seconds later, a wave of derring-do washed over him. “Let go,” he shouted.

John released his grip, and trotted alongside as Chester rolled gleefully along the sidewalk. “Don’t forget how to stop,” John cautioned as they approached a corner.

“I won’t.” Chester enjoyed a quick burst of joyous energy before squeezing the brake levers and coming to a stop. “That was wonderful,” he exclaimed. “I never knew what I was missing all this time.”

“I knew you’d like it, Grandpa.” John slapped Chester on the back, and they shared a hearty laugh. “And better late than never.”