I have never forgotten the first time that I had ride a bike. I was three. My father had just returned from work and we went on the street, near my house and he take out the bike from home. It was the perfect day to ride a bike, it was a Friday, holiday sunny day.
I was nervous because I had never ride a bike and I get on them and I take of immediately. My father helps me some metres and with some time I decided to try going alone. I had never been again as happy as this time. I could go alone with my first own bicycle.
After this increible event I went to a familiar dinner and I explain to all them what I’ve done. I was proud about what I’ve done!
