The Christmas Bicycle

 This Christmas story is by our friend, Heide Prout.  Heide was born and raised in Bremerhaven.  She came to America after the war at age 25.  She wrote this story in response to her husband's nephew, Carl, who wrote about his best-ever Christmas present, a horse. The story, just as she wrote it:

It was 1939.  I was 9 years old.  All I could think of was "I wish I had a bicycle".  My birthday had been in March - no bicycle.  Maybe they forgot.  So I kept reminding them:  I really, really want a bicycle.  All my friends (in reality it was one) have a bicycle.  Finally I was told to "wait for Christmas".  This was March.  I waited.  I was ok with that, because now I knew I would have a bicycle on Christmas.  The year went on and then - everything changed!  All everybody was talking about it:  Will there be a war?  I didn't quite understand why there would be a war and when it had been decided I had to ask my mother "Is there a war now?".  She sounded very worried when she said "yes, dear, there is a war now."  The year went on, air raids, trips to the shelter in the middle of the night, grown-ups being glued to the radio, fathers being drafted, and - of course - everything being rationed, not just food but also appliances, cars, and - of course - bicycles.  I asked my mother about her Christmas promise.  She told me that with the changed circumstances,  no promises could be kept and that I might just have to wait until the war was over.  I was heartbroken.  No bombing, none of the yummy foods that I liked to eat, running to shelters, every hardship paled in comparison to the fact that there would be no bicycle under the Christmas tree.  By the time Christmas came around I had resigned myself to the fact that it would be nothing but a big disappointment.  We always got our presents on Christmas Eve, at the same time we would see the decorated Tree with the candles and some small treats hanging from the branches for the first time.  We were all shown to our tables where we would find our presents.  Mine had some very nice things on it, books, pretty sweaters, a plate with sweets, and more.  I was happy and tried to forget what was missing.  My mother came over and asked if I liked my gifts. I thanked her and told her they were nice.  She then took me by the hand and said "come look what the others got".  We walked through the large room until we got to the big closed door that lead to the hall.  Right next to the door, leaning against the wall, was a BICYCLE!  I had to catch my breath.  I  couldn't speak.  My mother hugged me, my dad came over and said "If you make a promise, you have to keep it".  Later they told me that they had bought the bicycle right after they had been sure that a war was no longer avoidable, just before all such purchases were restricted to the war effort.  This was my best Christmas present ever.

Posted by permission of the author.  Thank you, Heide.