It took me less than a week to learn how to ride it without falling. Someone always stayed with me to make sure I didn’t go into the main paved street at the end of the dirt road that led up to our house. I learned to give rides to the other kids as well.

On one of those days, Hanan came by with her mother while we were all taking turns riding. “Hi, Hanan, how was—” but before I could ask her about her week in the city, she pointed to the bicycle.

“Whose is that?”

“Mine,” I told her proudly.

“Where did you get it?”

“My uncle Hamdi and auntie Fay brought it from America. I already know how to ride it. Watch me.”

I stepped up on the bike and began to ride down the drive. I stopped to look back. Hanan was smiling and I felt I could fly as I rode back to her.

“Here, you can try it,” I told her.

“I don’t know how,” she said.

“I’ll help you. It’s really easy.”

Hanan took the handlebars and stood for a moment, as if she was studying it and trying to figure out what to do.

“Like this,” I told her and showed her how to get on. “I’ll hold the back for you. All you have to do is pedal.”

She got on the seat and I held it steady. She put her feet on the pedals and I held the back as she moved forward. “Help!” she cried as she fell, but I caught her before she was all the way on the ground.

“It’s okay,” I told her as I helped her up. “You will fall a couple of times. That’s the only way to learn.”

We tried it again, but the same thing happened and she still wasn’t sitting straight in the seat. “Why don’t we wait until my uncle gets back or my mother comes down to help.”

“No, let’s try again.”

We kept trying, but she couldn’t get any speed and would fall over because I couldn’t hold the bike steady. We had to stop because my mother called me to come in.

The next day I found my mother alone in the sitting room embroidering.

“Where are Uncle Hamdi and Auntie Fay?” I asked her.

“They are at your grandmother’s.” She smiled at me and put her embroidery aside. I lay down with my head in her lap. I love the feeling of my mother’s fingers wandering through my hair.

“What’s this cloud hovering over Little Miss Sunshine?” She poked my nose, my forehead, my chin, and my belly.

“Nothing,” I said, though I felt strange inside, like something bad was going to happen.