The Christmas bike
a story of holiday magic from our household this year
For the last two years, a question has played on a loop in my head: What kind of kid doesn’t like biking? My seven-year-old son was adamant — he wasn’t interested in riding the bike I got for him when he turned five. It annoyed the hell out of me. It felt personal, like he’d found a secret way to poke my parenting buttons.
Ever since he was born, I’d imagined us bonding over outdoor adventures like biking and hiking. His disinterest felt like a rejection not only of my vision of our relationship but of childhood itself. Some of my fondest memories as a kid were of cruising around on my Huffy — no helmet, the wind in my face, and the thrill of independence with every pedal. Biking was joy on wheels. Why couldn’t he see that? Was biking not a thing for the iPad generation?
Life, I’ve learned, doesn’t always follow our carefully drawn maps, especially when it comes to parenting. After months of prodding him to bike, I let it go. And then, just as I’d given up, my son surprised me. One day, out of the blue, he decided to give it a try. Not only that, he loved it. Within weeks, we were biking side by side. Last month, we went on our first real ride together for five glorious miles on the trails of a reclaimed golf course. I was over the moon.
With Christmas around the corner, I wanted to celebrate this new chapter by getting him a bigger bike. His starter bike was too small and the chain was falling off regularly, making it borderline dangerous. I wanted him to have something sturdy and reliable. After some research, I landed on a company called Guardian Bikes that was recommended by Wirecutter for their innovative braking system designed for kids. The company had been on Shark Tank in 2016 and was an entrepreneurial success story. Plus they had a factory in Indiana. It was pricier than I had planned, but I was sold.
When the bike arrived, though, I realized I’d made a classic dad mistake. It was too big. Like clothes, I’d hoped to get him something he could grow into, but this bike wouldn’t fit him for at least a year. Frustrated, I emailed the company hoping I could exchange it for the next size down. Their reply surprised me.
“Sure,” they said. “But rather than returning the bike, we ask that you donate it to a local charity. Just send us proof of donation.”
Donate it? I paused, stunned. What a thoughtful and brilliant policy. It felt like they genuinely cared about spreading the joy of biking — and perhaps the magic of Christmas too. The bike was brand new and perfect for a boy just a little older than my son.
And so, I looked for a charity that could get the bike to a deserving boy for Christmas. A close friend and I discovered that the local Boys & Girls Club could do it, and we arranged to drop off the bike.
As we parted ways with it, a wave of Christmas magic washed over me. In one fell swoop, my son would get a new bike that fit him and we would help make another boy’s Christmas unforgettable with a new bike of his own.
The frustration I’d felt over my son’s disinterest in biking had come full circle. Not only would my son and I get to enjoy more biking together, but some other kid would experience “joy on wheels” too. It became our own little Christmas story — a lesson in patience, serendipity, and the joy of giving. Also, the ripple effects of something as simple as a return policy.
I hope you find some magic of your own this season.
Warmly,
Jeff
Special thanks to Guardian Bikes and the Boys & Girls Club for the Christmas magic, and a hat tip to for draft feedback.
That was a happy Christmas gem. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Wonderful story! Merry Christmas.