The story
My grandfather bought a bicycle in 1985.
He rode it to work for twenty-five years.
The bicycle is blue, but now most of the paint is gone.
Last year my father wanted to sell it.
He said it was old and nobody used it.
My grandfather did not say anything for a while.
Then he told us about the day he bought it.
It cost him two months of salary.
He rode home in the rain, but he was smiling all the way.
Nobody talked about selling the bicycle again.
It is still in the garage, and my grandfather cleans it every spring.