My First Hero
The 'Garden of Eden' was a playground that captured many interesting memories of my toddlerhood.
One significant event was when I was three. In the evenings, my brother (then 11-years-old) would take me across the street, over a moonsoon drain, and into the woods (hence the name 'Garden of Eden') that led into a community playground. He usually puts me on the middle bar of his BMX bicycle when we venture in to the playground.
As we entered the woods, we heard a buzzing sound. It seemed to get louder and LOUDER as we went deeper into the woods. Realizing the unseen danger we were in, my brother continued to peddle faster to get out of the woods and into the open field. Sitting on the bar infront of him, I could hear his heart beat race into a code red. He peddled and peddled with his skinny legs, but because of the uneven terrain of branches and grass, and a 15kg passenger infront of him...we didn't make it out in time.
We saw a large cloud of angry bees formating in our direction. The buzzing of the bees were as deafening as those fighter planes speeding close to the ground. As the bees rapidly targeted our moving bicycle, my dear brother had no choice but make a hard decision and abandon the bicycle as it could not go fast enough to save us. He started to run in the direction of our house.
Unfortunately, I was trapped beneath the BMX. Imagine, a three-year-old struggling to push (those days) a non-graphite bicycle frame, attached with two solid bicycle tyres of from her small body.
"RUN SARAH! RUN!!!"
"I CAN'T! I STUCK! I STUCK! PLEASE HELPPP MEEEE!" I yelped in fear.
Seeing that I was helpless beneath the weight of the BMX, he pulled his shirt up to his face and ran blindly towards me. He grabbed me from under the bicycle, stuck me under his shirt, and ran for his life, literally.
It seemed like I was stuck under the sweaty cotton fabric shield forever. But in a few moments, he delivered me out of his shirt and into safety.
By then, the bees had subsided back into the woods. They knew they had won the battle.
My poor, dearest brother had over 20 bee stings on his face and hands.
Me? Nothing. Not even a scratch.
He's truly my first hero. This memory will forever be imprinted in my soul.
One significant event was when I was three. In the evenings, my brother (then 11-years-old) would take me across the street, over a moonsoon drain, and into the woods (hence the name 'Garden of Eden') that led into a community playground. He usually puts me on the middle bar of his BMX bicycle when we venture in to the playground.
As we entered the woods, we heard a buzzing sound. It seemed to get louder and LOUDER as we went deeper into the woods. Realizing the unseen danger we were in, my brother continued to peddle faster to get out of the woods and into the open field. Sitting on the bar infront of him, I could hear his heart beat race into a code red. He peddled and peddled with his skinny legs, but because of the uneven terrain of branches and grass, and a 15kg passenger infront of him...we didn't make it out in time.
We saw a large cloud of angry bees formating in our direction. The buzzing of the bees were as deafening as those fighter planes speeding close to the ground. As the bees rapidly targeted our moving bicycle, my dear brother had no choice but make a hard decision and abandon the bicycle as it could not go fast enough to save us. He started to run in the direction of our house.
Unfortunately, I was trapped beneath the BMX. Imagine, a three-year-old struggling to push (those days) a non-graphite bicycle frame, attached with two solid bicycle tyres of from her small body.
"RUN SARAH! RUN!!!"
"I CAN'T! I STUCK! I STUCK! PLEASE HELPPP MEEEE!" I yelped in fear.
Seeing that I was helpless beneath the weight of the BMX, he pulled his shirt up to his face and ran blindly towards me. He grabbed me from under the bicycle, stuck me under his shirt, and ran for his life, literally.
It seemed like I was stuck under the sweaty cotton fabric shield forever. But in a few moments, he delivered me out of his shirt and into safety.
By then, the bees had subsided back into the woods. They knew they had won the battle.
My poor, dearest brother had over 20 bee stings on his face and hands.
Me? Nothing. Not even a scratch.
He's truly my first hero. This memory will forever be imprinted in my soul.
posted by Sarah | 11:26 AM
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