Casey had a beautiful bike, a black Spitfire with gold stripes. He had saved most of the money to buy it when he was just starting fifth grade. Casey went everywhere on his bike. He did long wheelies down the center of the street for his mom to see from her kitchen window. The bike was even strong enough to carry the newspapers for his route around town, and fast enough to get him home before the streetlights came on.

One afternoon Casey went to Ryan's after school. He parked his bike on his friend's driveway. At dusk the boys came up from the basement, and Casey went out to pick up his bike.

"Where's my bike?" he gasped. "Ryan, where's my bike? What's going on? Help me find my bike!"

He and Ryan went off looking in different directions. No bike. The boys just stood in the driveway staring at the spot where the bike had been. Casey's eyes filled with tears. He mumbled, "I guess I'd better get home, Ryan. See you," and trudged off.

Being alone was a help. Casey began to have some good thoughts. One was from the Bible: "Be still, and know that I am God." ^{Ps. 46:10.} Another good thought was that he could know what was true and not think things that were not true. "God is in charge" was true and good. And Casey knew that it couldn't be true that any of God's children would steal.

Casey was beginning to feel he could forgive, and that everyone really was a child of God. It made him feel better.

"It's dark. Why are you so late?" his mom said when he got home. When Casey told her what had happened, she hugged him. "I know what you're feeling. And I also know that God's man is truthful. He's able to hear God's good ideas. That means you can, and so can whoever took your bike."

That night a policeman came to the house in answer to a call from Casey's father. He told Casey and his brothers and parents that thieves had been going around in big trucks, swooping up bikes. He warned the family they shouldn't ever expect to see Casey's bike again.

Karree Sweft

After two weeks, almost everyone did give up on finding the bike. But there were at least three students of Christian Science—Casey, his mom, and his Sunday School teacher—who were not about to give up. They had put their trust in God and expected His good thoughts to replace the lie that someone could want to steal.

Then school was over, and the long, lazy summer days began. A friend of Casey's volunteered to take his paper route for him each afternoon after Casey had bagged the papers. Days slipped by. No clues on the bike.

His Sunday School class usually spent some time talking about how to pray—how to give Christian Science treatment. Casey said his treatment to solve the bike mystery was to know that God's man is complete and truthful.

Summer over, sixth grade started for Casey—new teachers, heavier books, and walking to and from school. One day about five months after the bike had disappeared, Casey decided to go home an entirely different route. Turning a corner, he came to a house with a great front yard bordered by a hedge. Lying on the lawn, as though put there for his eyes alone to see, was a gleaming black Spitfire with a gold stripe. Casey gulped! His bike? He walked closer, then checked the bike for special marks that only an owner knows. They were there. He wanted to shout!

"Oh, thank you, God," he prayed. "Thank you, You never let me down! You are my best friend." Casey walked up to the front door of the house and rang the bell. The woman who answered told him she'd been watching from her window. "You know, that little bike just appeared on my lawn yesterday morning. I don't know who put it there. I thought I'd leave it and hope its owner would come by."

Casey explained that it was his bike, and then he rode home. He began to think about what he would tell his Sunday School class. " 'There it was,' I will say, 'waiting for me to come along. God is the greatest!' " Casey had learned that trusting in God is the best thing to do.