I turned 14 years old this year. As well as my parents, something else has witnessed my 14-year growth — my four riding tools.

    From an old picture, I know I had a baby carriage. Actually, I cannot remember the experience of the baby carriage. But my grandmother told me something at the time. Every day, my mother pushed the carriage with me into the grove for fresh air, and washed the carriage because I would wet and dirty it.

    When I was 3 years old, that baby carriage finished its task and I got a small trike. With the care of my grandparents and parents, I rode it around, playing with my little partners. I dimly remember where we rode and where laughter broke out.

    When I was 7 years old, my primary school in the community was a little far from my home, so I got a new small bike. I was so happy, because I could get to school and come back home much faster. Sometimes when I met a classmate on foot on the way to school or home, I would give him or her a ride.

    Then I had a mountain bike from Grade Six until now. It looks so cool and strong. Because I go to school by bus now, I do not need to use it for that purpose anymore. With the reminder, safety first, from parents every time, I use it to visit friends during festivals and to attend extra classes on weekends.

    Most of all, I ride it for spring outings with friends to see colorful flowers and green grass.

    In my life, my four bikes have brought me much happiness and convenience.

    These riding tools were bought with the sweat and wages of my parents, so the happiness and convenience were brought by my parents. I am starting to realize this now, and I will remember this forever.