It was Christmas morning 1951, and 11-year-old Edge Farley was scampering around the dairy barn, helping his mother and uncle finish the morning chores of milking their 52 cows.
Starting each morning at 4 a.m., they didn’t eat breakfast — or celebrate Christmas — until all the cows were milked, the barn was clean, and the milk was safely stored in five- and 10-gallon cans in the walk-in cooling room.
Later, they would bottle the milk for delivery to houses all over Eatonton.
But today, they would go back to the house, eat the big country breakfast his mother had prepared, and then celebrate Christmas.
Edge was hoping for a bicycle for Christmas this year. His current bike was ancient with no real seat; only an old cushion resting on the rusted metal frame saved his skinny bottom from injury.
Imagine Edge’s joyful glee when the door to the living room was finally opened, and his anxious eyes focused on a brand-new bike parked under the Christmas tree!
It wasn’t just an ordinary bike, either! It was a motorbike! Happiness bubbled up in the young boy’s heart as he inspected his wonderful gift.
“Now, you will have to share the motorbike with your sister,” Edge’s Uncle declared. That gave Edge only a fleeting worry. His older sister never rode his present old bike. Maybe she wouldn’t care much about riding this one, either.
The days following Christmas were filled with joy as Edge puttered the bike back and forth from the house to the barn many times every day. He also explored many of the back roads of West Putnam County with his best friend, Thomas, riding on the back fender seat. His sister, Lenora, would often speed away into the distance on the bike, and then Edge would anxiously watch for her return.
She always returned without a scratch on the bike and usually with one of her boyfriends perched on the back.
A few days before school started after the holiday break, Edge and Thomas rode his motorbike up to visit their friend Richard.
After admiring the bike, Richard said, “Can I take it for a spin, Edge?”
Edge reluctantly agreed and anxiously watched as Richard disappeared down the road.
As Edge and Thomas stood in Richard’s yard, watching the road Richard had disappeared on, riding the bike, the minutes gradually added up to an hour.
Finally, a pick-up truck pulled into the driveway. Sitting in the front passenger seat was a teary-eyed Richard, sobbing. Resting in the truck bed was Edge’s wrecked, mangled, crumpled total loss of a motorbike.
“Edge, I’m sorry!”
Richard wailed. “I had a bad wreck and tore up your motorbike. Oh, I’m so sorry!”
The kind neighbor who had rescued Richard and brought him and the wrecked bike home put his arm around Richard.
“Don’t cry, Richard. Edge doesn’t care about that old bike. I’m sure he’s just glad to see you weren’t hurt.”
As the neighbor drove Edge home with his ruined bike, Edge silently reflected on what had happened. It was true he was very glad Richard wasn’t badly hurt, but he was a little ashamed to admit that he did care more about the wrecking of his beloved motorbike than he cared about Richard.
Edge had been able to enjoy riding his new motorbike for only a week. It just didn’t seem fair.
Also, Edge knew Lenora was going to freak out when she saw the bent, mangled bike.
But in his heart, Edge knew the beloved motorbike was gone forever. He would never get to ride it again. There was no money to repair it or buy another one. So, when the neighbor’s truck pulled into Edge’s driveway, this time, he was the boy sitting in the passenger seat, sobbing.