The Lucky Bicycle

"In life, miracles are unfolding with each breath. Speed bumps are placed in the road so you can see them" -Anonymous

I was only twenty-eight days old when my family packed everything and loaded us on one single bicycle to escape from the Khmer Rouge. I am amazed to think we all four fitted on a bicycle : my father pedaling, my older brother maintaining his balance on the handle bar, my mother on the bag carrier on the rear end of the bicycle and baby me, wrapped in a sling against my mother's nurturing breast. I was so tiny and had no clue what was happening, but I must have felt my mother's despair and fear since I haven't made a sound during the entire exodus to a refugee camp.

My thorough father made sure everything was secure and had just installed brand new wheels on the bicycle before leaving. We were many families heading in the same direction. As we struggled our way through the jungle, a man walked passed our way and was trying to sell us a bicycle wheel. At that time, we were fine and kept on pedaling.

My father had pedaled not even ten minutes when the front tire suddenly popped.  Oddly, that man selling the tire wasn't far behind so they turned around to try to find him.  My parents paid for the tire with one gold ring, which they hid in the bottom of their rice pot. They stopped for almost an hour, trying to replace the rubber tire.

We later found out that the families who were initially traveling with us got ambushed by the " Pol Pot pirates" and those who came after us also got captured. My family arrived safely at a refugee camp in Thailand and waited six months until we were able to immigrate to Canada.  

While growing up hearing the story of my family, I cannot help but believe in magic and miracles. Something or someone was watching over us the entire time and I wouldn't be the person I have become if it wasn't for that lucky bicycle...

My Family