Answer:I remember the first time I rode a
bike. I grew up on the poor side of my town so stuff like this wasn't too common. I had been saving money for a while and I had seen a small bike being sold at a yard sale a couple blocks away.
When I brought the bike home, my mom got mad but I was more interested in the bike. I took it outside and just stared at it as if that would magically teach me how to ride it. Thankfully, a girl who lived 2 doors down saw me and asked if I knew how to ride. And I told her no.
Every day that week she would show me the basics of the bike and it's parts. When she thought I was ready, she told me to hop on. And I did. I was always scared of heights but this felt thrilling. Until I fell off.
My heart was racing and I started to cry. The thrill was gone and I went inside crying to my mom but she just shook her head. When my big brother found out, he gave a long encouraging speech and told me o get back on it. So I did.
It took me 4 more tries to finally get to pedaling. But I did and I got at least a couple yards out before wobbling again. Eventually I was speeding past everyone on my first little bike. I was always the happiest on that bike. It made me feel cool even though I was the last to learn in third grade.
Step-by-step explanation: