I was helping my granddaughter learn to ride a 2-wheel bike last summer. She’d fallen off her scooter the year before and was afraid of falling off her bike because she thought it would hurt worse. “I’m just not ready,” she said, and stuck with the training wheels.

She and her brother Theodore were over earlier this year, riding around the driveway with their training-wheel-bikes and I remembered we have a 2-wheel bike, sans training wheels. Being one who tends to push boundaries, I offered to help her try riding it, telling her she could do it and it was worth the risk.  I cajoled her a bit, but let her decide and eventually, she cautiously decided to give it a try.

We talked a moment about how to set up the pedals, balance the bike, keep up speed, etc. I added that I would hold the bike steady to get her moving and would trot alongside holding on lightly until she got the hang of it. She had some initial success but then the bike bobbled and she struggled getting the pedals in the right place to keep going and stopped the bike.

I gave her a moment, hoping she wouldn’t be discouraged and quit. Then it happened.

She grabbed the bike handles, got a pedal up high to push off and I heard her say under her breath several times, “Come on!”, urging herself forward. I glanced at her face. The lips were firm, jaw tight, the eyes focused on the pedal. With muscles bunched she pushed off, her eyes looked up and… she was off. I followed for a few steps but she didn’t need me now. Her confidence grew each time she turned around the circle in front of our house or stopped a moment and re-started. One time the bike wobbled but she lithely stepped away as the bike half fell. Gripping the handles she hopped ‘back in the saddle’ and pedaled off.

Those words and her expression that carried her to success? PRICELESS.

Why? Because it was a glimpse into the heart of Sarah. Actually, the whole experience showed it. Her trepidation to re-try but not close the door entirely. Her trust that good old Poppi (me) could help her from falling or hurting herself. And finally, that internal push, that drive to master the 2-wheeler.

Isn’t it a wonderful thing to have grandchildren, or any kid that age that you can help achieve a goal? It gives me a glimpse into their growing and learning and to experience, even for an instance, the heart of who they are and will become. It also encourages me, many decades older, to keep my head up and my heart open to new opportunities and learnings. To have that gumption that Sarah showed to give something new a try.

At the end of the day, I had to chuckle. Sarah was now riding so well that I grew concerned about over confidence! But I prayed that she’d continue to do well and that God would protect her on this wonderful start to a new skill and freedom.