Every Saturday, after our usual visit to the local library, my daughter Leni and I would walk home, enjoying the simple joys of the day. Leni always carried a bag full of picture books and a colorful balloon animal—her reward from the librarian for being such a good listener during story time. It had become a cherished ritual that brightened our weekend walks.
One sunny afternoon, our routine took an unexpected turn. As we strolled past a row of parked cars, we noticed three motorcyclists chatting near a beautifully polished bike. With their worn leather jackets, beards, and metal accessories, they looked like characters out of a storybook—certainly an unusual sight for a curious six-year-old like Leni.
Before I could react, Leni dashed toward them, her balloon animal bobbing behind her. My heart skipped a beat as I hurried after her, unsure of what to expect. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks—for the better.
Instead of intimidating figures, the bikers were playfully decorating a small wooden skateboard with ribbons and balloons. One of them was balancing Leni’s favorite stuffed bear on the skateboard like it was a parade float. Leni giggled uncontrollably, completely at ease.
As I approached, a tall man with a kind face and a thick beard looked up and smiled. “You must be Leni’s mom,” he said warmly. I was surprised—neither Leni nor I had shared our names. Before I could ask how he knew, he handed Leni a balloon shaped like a unicorn, instantly capturing her attention.
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