It was at least two months before Christmas when nine-year-old Almie Rose told her father and me that
she wanted a new bicycle. As Christmas drew nearer, her desire for a bicycle seemed to fade (消退), or so 
we thought. We bought her a lovely doll, and a doll house. Then, much to our surprise, on December 23rd, 
she said that she "really wanted a bike more than anything else." But it was just too late. With such a lot of 
preparations to do for the Christmas dinner we did not have the time to buy our little girl a bike. So, here we 
were Christmas Eve around 9:00 p.m., with Almie and her six-year-old brother, Dylan, sleeping in their beds. 
Now we could only think of the bicycle and the disappointment of our child. "What if I make a little bicycle 
out of clay (泥) and write a note that she could trade (交易, 交换) the clay bike in for a real bike?" her dad 
asked. So he spent the next four hours making a tiny clay bike. On Christmas morning, we were excited for 
Almie to open the little gift box with the beautiful red and white clay bike and the note. Finally, she opened it 
and read the note aloud. "Does this mean that I can trade in this bike that Daddy made me for a real one?" I
said, "Yes." Almie had tears in her eyes when she replied, "I could never trade in this beautiful bicycle that 
Daddy made me. I'd rather keep this than get a real bike." At that moment, we would have moved heaven and 
earth to buy her every bicycle in the world!