Memories are something that I treasure the most. Out of all the memories that I kept, I have one favorite event in my life that I will never forget and will always be in my heart. I was nine years old when I wanted to have my own bicycle, but because of our lack of money when we used to live in the Philippines, my parents could not afford to buy me one. Economy in the Philippines was struggling, and the majority of the citizens does not earn enough to support their wants and needs, including my parents.
One day, my father and I went to a small store in the city to buy some food. I saw a one big store that sells different kinds of bicycles. All I did was stare at the bicycles with sadness wishing I could get one for myself. My father noticed me looking at the bicycles and asked me if I like them. I put my head down and said, “no daddy, I was just looking at it.” I knew my father did not have enough money to buy me one, and I did not want him to spend all his money just to buy me a bicycle. He laughed at me, held my hands and said, “one day, you will get your lucky bicycle.” I looked at him and smiled with hopes in my heart. One morning, my mother told me to go look for our old clothes in our garage at the back of our house to donate to church. While I was looking through all the stuff in the garage to find old clothes, I was surprised to see an old bicycle that was rusty, dusty and full of dirt all over it. I got excited and brought it with me to show it to my father.
My father was shocked and told me that it was my older brother’s bicycle that he bought for him when he was ten. He looked at me happily and said, “give me a couple of days honey.” I was not sure what he could do to a bicycle that was ten years old, but I waited for a couple of days to see what he had done to it. One early Sunday morning, my father woke me up and told me to come with him. I was so sleepy and did not understand why he woke me up so early. I got up, got dressed, and went with him outside our house.
I widely opened my eyes and cannot believe what I just saw. A newly painted pink bicycle that looks new. It was a totally different bicycle that was not rusty, dusty, nor full of dirt all over it. I jumped with happiness and hugged my father. “Is this mine now daddy?.” I asked. “Yes Casie, all yours.” My face was full of joy and I cannot believe that I finally have a bicycle that I can call my own. It might not be a brand new bicycle that was bought in the store, but for me, it is something special that my father did with full of thoughts and love. It was the best gift I have ever had. Today, even though my father and I are not as close as how we use to be because of our little misunderstandings, the memory of my lucky bicycle will always remind me that my father cares for me and loves me. Even though he does not show it as much, I know deep in his heart I am still his little girl.