During the weekends of my childhood in La Troncal, Ecuador, I rode my bike with my friend and neighbor, Jackie. My bike was old, black, small, and slow. I always came in last place whenever Jackie and I raced. Even with all my effort to pedal, I never won. Jackie’s bike was a shiny golden color with red and yellow lights. The pedals even had straps to hold her feet well. I dreamed about one day riding her bike. Not that I disliked my own. I still enjoyed riding around the neighborhood, and the best part was that I could leave it anywhere around town and knew it would always be waiting for me.

Many years later, after I came to this country, a sister from church gave me a golden bike, exactly like Jackie’s. The bike belonged to her niece and was an antique their family had had for years. When I rode in the streets, many people asked to buy the bike from me, but I wouldn’t take their offers because riding the bike was a childhood dream that had finally become reality. I enjoyed the bike until one day in the summer of 2012. That day, I left the bike outside for a few seconds, and when I came back, the last thing I saw was a boy riding away on my golden bike. Hopefully, it brought him as much joy as it did to me.

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Julia Coraizaca comes from La Troncal, Ecuador. Her first language is Spanish. When she came to the United States, she was only 20 years old. Now, she has been living in Manhattan for 35 years, and she is the mother of 10 children. With teacher Nestor Rodriguez, she studies at the Adult Education Program of the City College of New York.