One More Stolen Bike

Riding my sister on the back of a banana seat bike

When I never had to lock it

My bike that was stolen

It is one o’clock, exactly the minute I leave work for lunch. And I love my lunch breaks; I bike to a nearby park, overlooking the canal and eat yogurt with the sun warming my face and a breeze to cool my skin. I drink iced coffee chilled in a water bottle, read a novel, and write stories, my ideal break from work stress. I get to enjoy the happy sounds of the outdoors—seagulls chatting and children laughing in the playground. But not today.

Today I round the corner of the nursing home where I work and see nothing where my bike should be, nothing where I parked it and locked it at ten o’clock this morning. Nothing but my chain lock, snipped in two places. I open my mouth in disbelief as if I could scream. Screaming would be useless. The thief is long gone. He biked away or threw it in a car. Gone. In broad daylight.

Now would not be the time to remind me that I have a lot to be thankful for and things could be worse, or maybe there is a reason for this happening…or pray for my enemies. I know, and I’ll read the Bible verses to steer my mind toward these thoughts when I’m ready, but for now I’m disappointed. And angry. And frustrated. My bike was only three months old. It was my third fold-up bike. I have bought the same bike three times. The first got rusty after Hurricane Sandy; the second bike was stolen when my son borrowed it and chained it right near the police station. He thought it would be safer there than at the train station. Guess not.

Over the years my kids and I have had at least ten bikes stolen and a couple of bike seats. I’d like to find one of the thieves and hear their story. How did they become so indifferent? Do they ever consider the consequences of their actions or how they affect others by stealing? I’m sure they’d laugh in my face and ask me for my phone.

It took about a day of reading the latest news to get over it. Yes, I’m still frustrated that I’ll have to buy another bike, but if this is my worst problem, I’m having a better life than many people around the world. First the shooting tragedy in Orlando; then two teens died this week—one during a football practice, and one from Toxic Shock Syndrome. I can’t imagine how horrific the grief all the friends and family are suffering.

In this life, we can’t hold onto things…they break, they get lost or stolen; they die. Only faith, hope and love remain if we focus on eternity. Now I’m ready to say this… he can steal my bike, but he can’t steal my joy, faith, hope, or love. The thief has nothing. I need to pray for him. I knew God could twist my thoughts around. He says in his word: “For the Son of Man came to seek what is lost.” Luke 19:10. I don’t think God meant stolen bikes. It’s the thief He cares about who is truly lost.

Book Review: A Soul as Cold as Frost by Jennifer Kropf

From the first page, I knew this was going to be something special. And it was even better than I expected. I’m not one to usually read fantasy novels, but the poetic descriptions of this magical world author Jennifer Kropf created sparkled. Her characters had depth and personality that had me rooting for them and enjoying getting to know them as the story progressed. Helen is transported into this winter land parallel to her home where she encounters all sorts of different creatures somewhat like human, but not. Her mission becomes a journey with her patrolman to save the Truth. It had a touch of The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe aura, but such a unique story with its own charm and suspense. This book is one I won’t forget and will add to my list of favorites. I am looking forward to reading her sequel. Amazon / A Soul as Cold as Frost

OUT OF THE BLUE (Spring Fling Kidlit Contest)

Robin sang, “No. Not flying from my nest. Ever.” The ground was too far, and the sky, too wide. She wished she could climb back into her blue shell and forget about flying. Chickadee chuckled. “Come play air-tag!” Robin sang, “No.” Benny Bee buzzed by, somersaulting, ruffling Robin’s downy feathers. “Bet ya can’t do that!” “Show off!” Bee twirled again… Bang! Into a branch. “Buzzzz! Bzz! Bzz! Help!” A black and yellow dot spiraled out of the blue sky, past Robin’s nest. Without thinking, Robin dove and darted, flapped and floated. With Bee on her back, she landed on a cherry blossom carpet. Bee buzzed a soft “Thank you.” Robin waved her wing. “No problem.” Chickadee chirped, “Now are you ready for air-tag?” Robin sang, “Yes.” She tossed her shell to the ground. It was her time to fly.

Keyra, Queen Yorkie

Painting by Francy Judge Keyra Judge passed away on February 7, 2022, in her home in Long Beach, New York. Born on September 9, 2009, she was over 12 in dog years and lovingly nicknamed, Pain-in-the-butt. She was the beloved daughter to her human parents, Gene and Francy; the adored sister of human siblings: Jordan, Aaron, Elijah and Stephen. She was tolerated by her human brother, Andrew who never truly forgave her for stealing his sandwich. She will also be missed by her doggy friends, Toby and Rosie. Keyra was a Yorkie, large for her breed, but still small. And as some intelligent dog owner once said, “small dog, big personality.” Keyra attended the Academy of Barking, but she quit to pursue her dream of becoming a guard dog. Because of her Napoleon complex, she often tried to prove her toughness, barking in circles around a neighbor pit bull. Her secret weakness was car rides. She got car sick. Every time. She looked embarrassed throwing up into a b...

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