The Ultimate Triumph
by Kenneth Copeland
Judging by the size of the package waiting for me under the Christmas tree Dec. 25, 1953, my dreams had not come true. The one gift I’d been hoping my parents would give me for 10 long years was nowhere to be seen. Christmas had come again, and though I’d wanted a motorcycle all my born days, at 16 years old I still didn’t have one.
After my mother reminded us, as usual, that this was Jesus’ birthday, and we prayed together, I reached under the tree and picked up my gift. No bigger than a book, the weight of it surprised me.
What in the world could be that heavy? I thought. Ripping through paper and ribbon, I found a stack of magazines with a note on top.
"I’m in the driveway," it read.
For a split second I stared at the words in shock and my knees went weak. Then, heart hammering, I ran to the door and opened it. What I saw literally knocked me off my feet.
There in the driveway sat a 1952 Triumph Thunderbird motorcycle.
Excited doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt at that moment. Scrambling up from the porch where I’d fallen, I thanked Mama and Daddy, grabbed my jacket, jumped on my new motorcycle and hit the street. By the time I got back home that night I’d ridden more than a hundred frigid miles and my face was frozen into an ear-to-ear grin.
4 : BVOV
