An unexpected makeover

“I forced a grin and waved as my 6-year-old grandson, Ben, rode his old secondhand bike down the sidewalk. With peeling yellow paint and a torn seat, I wished we could get him a new one. But he and my daughter had recently moved in with me so I could help her care for him while she worked two jobs, and with my fixed income, a new bike was a luxury we just couldn’t afford.

“Suddenly, the rusty chain on Ben’s bike snapped, and he crashed to the ground. I spent the next hour tending to his scrapes and trying to fix the chain, but no matter what I did, the bike was beyond hope. ‘I’m sorry, honey, this bike just isn’t safe anymore,’ I said to Ben. As I took in the bent tires and rusty gears, I knew what had to be done.

“As the sanitation truck rumbled up the street, I hugged Ben, then somberly added the bike to the garbage pile. My heart sank as the worker hoisted it into the air and carried it away, glancing back at my tearful grandson.

“The next morning, I went out to get the newspaper and blinked in shock. There on my doorstep was Ben’s bike. It was freshly painted with a new seat and chain. I called Ben outside and his eyes flew open wide.

“‘My bike!’ he shrieked, clambering onto it in his pajamas. ‘Who fixed it?’ Chills of gratitude feathered over my skin as I remembered the lingering stare of that sanitation worker. ‘I’d say a hero who wanted to see a little boy smile again.’” —Hazel Anne Burke, 52, Hopkinsville, KY