In October 1957 my sister Rose was born.

Exciting as that was, I anticipated another special surprise in December.

I prayed, as sincerely as a 7 year old could, for a bicycle. I was sure I had done nothing to displease Santa.

On Christmas Eve I was too excited to sleep. I tightly closed my eyes and pulled the covers over my head.

Mother said I must be fast asleep or Santa would pass me by. I shivered as I questioned my worthiness for such a grand gift.

Finally, I fell asleep while dreams of sugar plums danced in my head.

I awoke on Christmas morn with excitement. I quickly put on my slippers and peeked around the corner of the living room.

Trembling with suspense, I had butterflies in my stomach. I caught a glimpse of my favorite color.

My eyes focused and my heart jumped. Sitting next to the tree was the shiniest, most beautiful turquoise bicycle in the whole world.

Beyond my wildest dream, it simply took my breath away. I rushed to it, gently rubbing the smooth chrome. It was not an illusion.

I had my treasure. It was my best Christmas ever.

I remember that one gift, above all others. I was as happy as any child could be.

Enjoying my bicycle didn’t end until I outgrew it. Then my little sister grew into it.

As the years went by, we both looked back joyfully to a certain Christmas and our grand turquoise bicycle.