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When I was 11, I told my parents I wanted a bike for Christmas. I looked forward to it for weeks. We were pretty poor. My dad ran a small business, and it was always a struggle with 4 kids. On Christmas morning, I got a one speed. It was used, heavy and very rusty, and I guess my dad didn’t know anything about lubricants. It was nearly impossible to pedal.<br> <br> About a month later, I saw a nice 3-speed bike at a department store. I talked my mother into signing for me, to let me pay for it on time. The year was 1962. The bike was $55.00, and I rode 6 miles to the store every Saturday to make a $1.25 payment, until I found out they would let me pay monthly. It was great exercise and I would buy a milkshake at the soda fountain, when I got to the store. It was only 35 cents for the shake.<br> <br> My good friend wanted a new bike too. His dad could easily afford one, but he made his son pay for his bike over time just like me. My friend appreciated it so much more that way. His wise dad had a lot of money, but none of his 5 kids were spoiled.
By Wilson
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