I didn’t have a dad growing up. Mom raised me, for the most part.
Today’s story is from Jason Fields.
I did have an uncle. His name was Greg. Uncle Greg taught me something special about me. It was 1981, another bleak, freezing Cincinnati winter.
My name is Jason. I was 5 at the time. The memory is vivid, even today. Standing in the Cincinnati Kmart.
Longingly gazing at the most beautiful thing I had ever seen…a jet-black Huffy “Panther” BMX bicycle.
Chrome spokes, riding pegs, trick handlebars, and “panther claw” grips! My heart pounded at the thought of riding this powerful steed. READ MORE
School was out! I hopped on the bus headed for home.
Today’s story is from Katie McDevitt.
A young lady of 10, a 10-year-old, I was anxious to play outside with my friends.
Jim Reid, Katie’s dad
As we rounded the corner, there was my house. My face squished tight to the glass. What did I see? In the front lawn, my little red bike. Why was I distressed?
Stop for a moment. Pretend you are me. What do you see?
A “For Sale” sign tied to the bars of my bike. “For Sale?” I thought. My red bike was my life.
What had I done? Really! I was just a a 10-year-old. Want to relate? Imagine someone towed off your car! I jumped off the bus. Ran ‘cross the yard. Flew into the house. READ MORE