My Magical Moment was the first time that I rode a bike. I remember being on the street with my dad and my bike, we were taking off the training wheels; I was probably about five years old. I didn’t want to, but it was a milestone that every young boy must pass one day. So I hopped on my bike, my dad was holding on to me, I started pedaling, and he was still holding on to me, all I could see was darkness, for I was too scared to look. Then I told my dad he could stop and I heard from a distance, “Good job Andrew!” I was tricked, he was never actually holding on to me! He made me think he had me because he knew that that was the only way to get me to go by myself. Before I knew it I was going as fast as a roadrunner after five cans of monster! It was an amazing feeling, only one problem, I couldn’t steer! I was making jerky steers around and around but was heading for our mailbox. I made a turn as sharp as a needle because I didn’t know how to turn smoothly. Then, fell on the cement and got a golf ball sized scar that is still on my knee today. Then I wanted to do it again and again until I finally mastered it. Learning how to ride a bike was truly a magical moment in my life!
Andrew, 12, USA