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I was about seven years old then, and living at the Grafton St. house. I was desperate for a bike because my older brother Butch had one. My dad finally capitulated and brought home an ENORMOUS, beautiful, irish-green, used (but definitely not child-sized) bike. My dad rode that bike up and down the sidewalk in front of the house, telling me all the while as he rode along, that, I would "grow into it". However, very small and very, very thin, I was not so sure about that.
However, I still wanted to ride it right there and then and not "next weekend" when my dad "might have some time". My dad worked and my mom had my three brothers, myself, and my baby sister Anne at home, so, it did not look good for my bike riding lesson anytime soon.
Aunt Claire, in her twenties then, instantly stepped up to the plate and volunteered to be my instructor! And, with a big smile, she grabbed the bike from my dad and walked both me and my new bike over to the Crosby school. Trying to allay my fears, she hopped up on that beast of a bike, riding it around and around, to show me how easy it was. I told my Aunt Clair, sadly, that the bike was her size not mine, and it was WAY too big for me.
Aunt Claire just laughed, saying, "Well of course it's way too big, Mamy Nellon, but that doesn't mean you can't ride it... You just have to try harder!" Mmmmm, a nice ice-cold dose of truth and reality at age seven! But, even way back then, what she said made sense to me, because after all, what DID being small have to do with riding a bike anyway? She was a super teacher; sweet (but with definite Drill Sergeant leanings), who taught me to ride safely and well, on a bike three times too big for me... She was funny and always had a ready smile, sage advice, excellent riding tips, and (lest we forget) a superb pineapple upside-down cake!
So thank you, Aunt Claire, for your bike riding instructions and your life advice: that being small (or whatever) really has nothing to do with accomplishing whatever goals I may have had then or may have in the future. I simply just have to try harder...
Love, Mary Ellen