Handlebars: A Simple Story About Courage

Handlebars

When Old Man Withers challenged our town to do something brave, it brought our fears to the surface and made us look at them a little more closely. Young and old alike.

Douglas was a kid who lived on the more fearful side of life. He had always been a cautious child. Nervous, if you will. So, while riding a bike was a rite of passage for most boys his age, for Douglas it was more of a wish wrapped in a worry, as he watched the other boys fly by his window seat on warm Saturday afternoons. His grandpa noticed. And while the old man later dug through the lifetime of junk collected in his garage, looking for that old bike he never could bring himself to throw away, the worry he had been carrying himself was pushed to the side.

The sight of that bike with the crooked handlebars threw Grandpa back into a memory. Being at the top of that hill, wearing his superhero cape, and coasting down that hill. The rush of taking his hands off the bars and throwing them up in the air and trusting that bike with every ounce of his childhood courage. And he wondered at what point he had run out of that courage. Seemed he was gripping the handlebars pretty tight these days.

"Come on Douglas," he said. "Put down your book. I'm going to teach you to ride a bike." The fear on Douglas's face was just no match for the joy of getting to spend time with his Grandpa. They threw the bikes into the bike of Grandpa's pickup and headed out for Harlow's Hill, where many a kid had sledded down to a lost tooth in the winter, and became the greatest water slide of all time every 4th of July. But today it was quiet. As if it were waiting for a boy and his Grandpa to conquer their fears.

"See, here's the thing," Grandpa said, with his arm draped over Douglas's small shoulder. "Sometimes you have to face things that scare you. And you can hide from it, and just look at it. Or you can get on that bike and push through it. It's in those moments you choose brave instead of waiting to feel it. And if you're really brave, you will trust that something bigger is steering that bike -you'll trust in the wind that guides you. And you''ll take a breath and lift your hands up off those handlebars. And have a little faith. That's the greatest rush of all - when you have the courage to release your grip."

Douglas nodded even though he didn't really get it. But he trusted Grandpa.

And the two of them sat at the top of that hill on their bikes, and stared ahead in a moment of quiet. Grandpa nodded at Douglas with a look that told him he could to this. And then together, they gently pushed off. And somewhere about halfway down, in unison, they raised their hands up into the air as the world flew beside them in a blur.

That day Douglas didn't just learn to ride a bike. He learned to fly. Grandpa was right.

That day the wind whispered a lesson they both needed to hear. That we aren't meant to go through life clutching the handlebars so tight. But that when we choose to have the courage to lift our hands up in the air, and trust the wind - well, that's when we truly fly.

So maybe whenever you see a bike, it'll be a gentle whisper in your ear to let go of that wish you have wrapped in a worry, and let God steer for a while.