My father made the mistake of promising us a pony when we moved. I hated to move, but my father's
job made it necessary for us to move a lot. Every three years or so he'd get a promotion and off we'd go.
All six of us kids hated it, and to placate us my dad would promise us some special thing. We were moving to Vermont, close to the country where we could have a pony of our own. I was only six but I had friends I would miss. It was also my birthday on Christmas. I asked so many times if I was getting a pony or not. Neither parent would really give me a definitive no. So I figured that meant yes! I picked a name for the pony, looked in catalogues at saddles and horse stuff. I planned how I would be the envy of all the kids, nice and nasty alike.
I was thrilled, a pony, a real pony of my own! It was all I could think about. From the time we moved in September to the week of Christmas I talked about my pony. My anticipation on Christmas Eve kept me awake late into the dark, snowy evening. Where was it, where did they hide it? I even thought I heard it neigh in the night. I looked out the window late and watched snow fall. It was beautiful. Pristine it covered my snow fort, our dried out garden and the tool shed became distant and fuzzy. The street lights cast a hazzy glow in the yard as I looked for my pony. Where was it?
Then Christmas morning arrived and I ran down the stairs looked over the railing and...no pony.
I was so upset I cried. I didn't even see Little Blue until my older sister said she'd keep it if I didn't want it.
What! What did she say. Something she'd want that was mine?? I ventured to my side of the tree where my gifts were. It made me mad at first. All shiny, blue and chrome with a comfortable black seat, wide tires and a bell that rang when I pushed the lever. I'd never been on a bike and couldn't even ride her. She mocked me to try. I kicked her. She didn't feel it but darn my toe did. Not only was it not a pony, shoot I had to learn to use it. I took me awhile, but no way was I gonna use the darn training wheels. Pissed that it wasn't my beloved pony I decided it was about time. I went for broke!
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One day I mastered it.A couple of feet, then yards, then I was making it, I was moving, I was riding my bike! And then all of a sudden I was flying down the road on Little Blue! The wind in my hair and my legs pumping away I was free. I could go so much further on Little Blue then I could walking. It opened up new things for me. The library, where I could read all I wanted to. The park, where I could swing to the top and almost go over without tipping over the swingset! Slides, big huge slides, hot in the summer they burned your legs in shorts and cold in winter they chilled you into goosebumps. Though I parked her in the garage every evening I wiped her down just so she'd stay nice and shiny. I got good at it, I got a bit cocky, I craved speed!
Me and Little Blue did tricks, I could stand on her seat. Ride the fender and still pump the pedals and even ride backwards. I pretended I rode the back of my pony just like in the circus. I finally had a friend that never let me down.The big tires trudged through snow, were steady in rain and fast on the road when I wanted to be. It was the mini version of a convertible with the top down.And to think at first I hated her.
never got the pony, but I never forgot Little Blue. My first taste of flying free had two wheels instead of four legs. But she was my pony for sure...
I hope you all get a pony for Christmas!
