The Wheel

Maybe it's the time of year October, when my energy downshifts and looks inward. The season presents me with old stories in a new light. I am remembering when my bicycle was stolen from the junior high school while I was painting scenery for the school play. My English teacher asked the students for contributions, cash funds for me to buy a new bicycle. The very same week my mother forced me to walk in and lie to the insurance company and say my bike was stolen from my garage at home. I felt awful. My fellow classmates raised 30 dollars of their own money towards my new bicycle. Then, my mother who never liked me riding off on my bike, presented an option. "Why not buy a potter's wheel instead of a bicycle?" I didn't realize that she had an agenda. I couldn't decide but she pushed me each day towards the potter's wheel. Finally I agreed. Within days of assembling it she said "Make me a set of dishes!"