<p>Title: The Sweetness of Second Chances (I might change the title though, because it's not ALL ABOUT second chances .. you'll see. But please read and honestly critique)</p>
<p>Second chances. Do we really deserve them when we despairingly cry out for them? Many people believe that once you screw up, you can’t hop on back to the righteous trail. Riding my brand new, appealing bicycle on the sidewalks of my town in fifth grade, I was chilled by the wintry air and had realized this was the first time ever to experience something unexpectedly challenging. I didn’t feel too optimistic about returning home alone on my bike without collapsing and getting bloody scars all over my knees repeatedly, but I firmly believed in myself and detached my mind from a typical loser’s mind: “I can’t do it.” As the bike went smoothly on the clean, bare sidewalks, the tires met an enormous piece of rock, heaving me off balance. I experienced terrible, life-threatening situations such as almost getting run over by a car by not being wary of the car that was coming towards me from the right. Fortunately, the driver immediately pressed down the brakes and looked at me in disbelief. I was guilty and asked myself, “What in the world was I thinking? Is there something wrong with me?” I looked at my knees and something was certainly missing. I looked at myself on the clear mirror attached to the sides of the handlebar. I wished that I should’ve worn a helmet. If the car hadn’t stopped, I could’ve lost my life. The horrible experience stuck with me through the months, and realized that although everyone goes through undesired experiences, those who remain the same and don’t mentally transform will stay losers. However, I believe that those who use those experiences and mentally change and transform will become winners. I was on the path to become a true winner. </p>
<p>All these experiences revealed that I lacked awareness as my parents and peers always advised me to stay safe. I wished I should’ve done this and that but I knew by just regretting and forgetting what happened, I would not change and not even be committed to change. For a long period, my parents strictly prohibited me from using the bike, which limited my outdoor activities. Going to the deli to buy my favorite candy or going to a friend’s house to play video games together just wasn’t easy and self-comforting as it was before. My mom had to drop me off and pick me up wherever I went outside of school, and I lacked the whole feeling of independence and self-duty. I exceedingly wanted a second chance to ride my bike again on a consistent basis without being incautious like I used to be. I wanted to be a safe bike rider with my helmet and knee pads on at all times to show the greatness of safety in my neighborhood, which is swarmed with kids riding their bikes pretending to be immature professionals. Every time I went into my garage, gazing at the mongoose bike my mom bought me for my birthday brought a wide smile to my face. Biking became my best method of transportation. It brought me wherever I wanted to go and I even thought of being one of the best, amateur cyclists in the world because I just loved biking so much. Every inch I reached by pedaling my bike, I cherished every moment and imagined how transporting in life would be difficult for little children who do not take pleasure in biking and detest walking. I was willing to change and be more alert. At that time, my developing brain wasn’t quite completely mature so it wasn’t until early 7th grade until I fully realized that one big mistake can hurt me, and even kill me if I am not careful of what I am doing. Eventually, these changes of being mature at all times and making smart, safe decisions brought me a great deal of respect from my family members and friends. </p>
<p>After receiving the special, second chance from my parents, I vividly remembered all the events that happened when I rode my bike an year ago. It was a cold January afternoon and it was the first day I was about to depart from my house on a bike in a year. I left my street and headed for the park to work out my lower body. It was chilly, and the weather kept bringing me back painful memories. The January of last year was all about failure for me when it came to controlling a bicycle, especially on the icy streets. Now, stinging my knees and arms was something I didn’t even think of doing. I felt great control of the bicycle and always avoided going near streets congested with cars and school buses. I became a more vigilant and sharp-witted person than I ever was. I used my past experiences as a guide for the present and future. I completely wiped out the worries that my parents had on me when I went out on my bike. Right after the moment I put my helmet on, my parents smiled at me and gave me a big thumbs up. I saw change occurring in me and never made the same mistakes I did a year ago on my winsome bicycle that I got on the same day as when I blew out ten candles and celebrated my tenth birthday. I greatly took advantage of the second chance that was given to me and thanked God for the opportunity. A person willing and dedicated to change will always learn from his or her failures and make those broken pieces of failures a beautiful gallery of success, which can be easily built from second chances.</p>
