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| � � My mom groaned, "You know we can't afford to buy bikes right now. �We don't have that kind of money." |
| My heart sank. �My bike had meant freedom to me. �I had felt the breeze in my face, whisking my cares and boredom away. �But then, I didn't know what to do. �My bike, along with my brother's and sister's bikes, had been stolen. |
| I sulked back to the living room, plopped down on the couch, and silently cried. �"What can I do?" I pleaded to a place inside of me. |
| When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a skein of yarn lying on the coffee table. �And I knew that my prayer had been answered. �For immediately, I had the thought, I can make potholders; and I can sell them! �Then I can buy a bike! |
| I leapt from the couch and ran back to the kitchen. �"Mom! �I can make potholders and sell them. �And when I sell enough of them, I can buy a bike." She thought it sounded like a good idea. �"Can we go to the store so I can buy some rug yarn?" |
| "I guess so," she replied. �"But we'll have to wait until your father gets home from work tonight and see if it's all right with him." |
| That night, I waited and worried while Mom explained my idea to Dad. �Yes, it was okay with him. �And yes, he would take us tonight. �My heart took a leap of joy; Dad hadn't always readily agreed to things. |
| Later, I scanned the various colors of yarn in the department store, picking out the ones that were most pleasing. �I bought all the rug yarn that I could afford; in a variety of colors. �As soon as we got home, I started crocheting. �I made the centers one color and trimmed the edges in a contrasting color. �By the end of the week I had made a dozen potholders. |
| On Saturday, I went door to door in my neighborhood, selling potholders. �I met up with all kinds of people. �Some barely opened their doors, but others bought some potholders and some even gave me orders for |
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