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Memories of my childhood in Illinois come and go. I remember plainly the day I learned to ride a bike.

Our family lived in the Milo house at the time. It was an older house, large rooms, high ceilings. Lots of room to play and a large yard. It was a Saturday, sunny, warm and breezy. Sophie was visiting, driving that green hatchback that I thought was so cool. She was one of Mom's friends and I idolized her. Pretty with blond hair and so confident.

I remember we went to the local auction that morning. There was a cute little bike up for auction, pink and purple sparkle paint with matching tassles on the handles. My face must have lit up when I saw it because I saw Mom and Sophie scoot down a bit and talk in their low, "adult conversation" voices. We left the auction with come pottery pieces for Mom and the bike. It was for me! I was so elated but my bubble burst when I realized I had no idea how to ride a bike.

Back at home, in the living room, I curled in the corner of the couch, listening to Sophie and Mom go on about this and that. Nothing interesting, really, until Sophie turned to me and asked if I would like to try out my new bike. Anytime Sophie talked to me I would feel so happy inside. I couldn't wait to grow up so I could be just like her. But at this moment, I couldn't wait to have her show me how to ride a bike. I expect training wheels, all of my friends were learning with training wheels. Not with Sophie around! Did I mention how confident she was?

We walk outside, to the street where I liked to sift through the gravel looking for fossils. After several attempts, Mom and Sophie finally get me on the seat of the bike. Wow, this is the most scary yet exciting feeling I have ever had. My feet are not touching the ground, Sophie has instructed me to put my feet on the pedals. I feel my toes tingle, along with my fingertips. That feeling I get when I am riding a glass elevator or looking off the balcony of a 6th floor hotel room.

Sophie instructs me to hold on tight to the handlebars. She talks to me as she slowly pushes the bike and keeps it steady and I begin pedaling. I am getting a rush as I feel the effect of the pedals move the bike forward. A couple of times we attempt Sophie counting to three and letting go but every time I panic and forget to pedal. She talks to me about how to stop the bike and we practice braking. Finally, Sophie is holding on to the bike, keeping it steady. I am pedaling, faster and faster, keeping the momentum and talking to her as I propel forward. I am telling her a story of something that happened at school. I finish, waiting for her reply. There is none. I glance to my right....no Sophie. I glance to my left...no Sophie. I muster all the courage I have and whip my head around. I see Mom and Sophie, little specks on the road. They are waving and clapping their hands and motioning for me to turn around and come back. I am riding a bike! This is the best feeling in the world. I grin and turn, cautiously, and carefully make my way back. I have learned.

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