THE BICYCLE MAN

It was a wintry Christmas morning. A young pajama-clad boy stood in the doorway of his dilapidated wood-framed home, watching a heavily-clad man walking up the sidewalk. His face lit up and a smile spread on his face at seeing what the man had in his hands. “Mommy, Mommy, its Santa Claus,” he exclaimed.

***

I completed my tour in the military in 1965. As destiny would have it, I landed in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, working for a major oil company. Within months, my job relocated me to White Bear Lake, Minnesota, a small community just outside St. Paul.

I quickly adjusted to the move. With sheer persistence from a friend, I joined the local Knights of Columbus—a Christian organization.

"Joe, we are having a meeting of the KC tonight. Would you like to come along with me?" I can't the number of times I heard this from my good friend, Jerry.

One night I had reached my limit. “Jerry,” I said, “What are the Knights of Columbus all about anyway? Why should I join?”

"The KC helps families obtain economic security and stability through its life insurance, annuity and long-term care programs. It also contributes time and energy worldwide to service in communities. I think you'd like being part of this."

It stirred me when he said service to communities. Yes, I wanted to share faith, hope, and charity by being part of something that helped the community. "Alright, Jerry, I'll accept your invitation and joining the Knights of Columbus."

I worked whole-heartily in the KC but felt the organization needed publicity. Word had gotten out that I was a writer—a poet to be exact. The members felt I would be valuable as Council Activity Director, reporting activities and promoting membership.

The most heartwarming part of being a member of this organization was carrying on the tradition of providing toys for the needy children at Christmas.

I grew up the adopted son of a sharecropper, and times were tough. I've memories of the cotton stalk Christmas tree, we had when I was a young lad, so I've always understood hardships. Therefore, as I rose through the ranks, I became active collecting toys for the needy children.

The fire department felt that junk was being donated. This presented a crisis. Therefore, I volunteered to take charge of donations and placed an article in the local newspaper, requesting donations of tricycles and usable toys to be brought to a vacant school.

The article stated tricycles, but bicycles were being donated as well.  Soon I had so many bicycles that I became known as The Bicycle Man. Many of the bikes were in need of repair, so I brought them to my garage. Before long, I had fifteen to twenty bikes in my garage.

Knowing I needed help, I prayed. James, a sixteen-year-old son of a KC member answered the call. This invaluable young Christian man worked to get the bikes repaired in time for Christmas delivery.

It was a wintry Christmas morning when I loaded my Chevy with bicycles for needy children and drove to an older neighborhood. I parked my car, took out a bicycle, and began walking up the uneven and cracked sidewalk.

A young pajama-clad boy stood in the glass-paned doorway of his dilapidated wood-framed home, watching this heavily-clad man walking up the sidewalk. His face lit up and a smile spread on his face at seeing what this man had in his hands. “Mommy, Mommy, its Santa Claus,” he exclaimed.

Only once in a lifetime this could have happened that I could feel the smile on the young boys face. It was my most memorable experience and one I'll never forget.

"Thank you, Santa Claus." Tears of joy filled the mother's eyes.

Once again, my job transferred me, so this was my last year to serve in the Knights of Columbus.  In spring, and my time to leave, the headmaster of the council had an appreciation social for me, following mass.

During a time of enjoying refreshments, I spotted a friend. "Jerry, I can never thank you enough for talking me into joining the KC. It's been a pleasure."

"Joe, the pleasure was mine. Just seeing how you had a heart for the needy and worked hard at making their Christmas special--it warmed my heart. I'm going to miss you." Interrupted by the headmaster, our conversation ended.

"Joe, will you come up here for a minute?"

Setting my punch and cookie aside, I made my way to the front and stood near the headmaster. To my great surprise, he presented me with a plaque engraved The Bicycle Man.

“Thank you Bicycle Man for your heart-felt service in our organization and for being a shining example of what the Christian faith is about.”

Tears filled my eyes and emotion filled my throat. "Thank you. It's been an honor to serve in this wonderful organization. I'm happy for the good I've done and pleased to wear the title The Bicycle Man."

(Treasured Memories www.outskirtspress.com/treasuredmemories)

Joseph A. Zapalac, Author