In the river of memory, that old tricycle always occupies a special place, and the tires of the tricycle carry countless stories and memories.

When I was a child, my family lived in a narrow alley. Every morning, I am awakened by a creaking sound. That’s an old man selling breakfast riding a tricycle. The tires of the tricycle are somewhat worn out, but they still rotate tenaciously, as if telling a story of time.

The old man always has a smile on his face, and his tricycle is filled with various delicious breakfasts. There are steaming steamed buns, crispy deep-fried dough sticks, and sweet soybean milk. Whenever he sees us children, he always warmly greets us and hands over a warm breakfast. And the tires of the tricycle, in the hustle and bustle of day after day, kept rolling, bringing convenience to the people in the alley.

I remember one time, it rained heavily. The water in the alley is very deep, and we are all trapped at home. Just as we felt helpless, the familiar “creaking” sound sounded again. It turned out that the old man was riding a tricycle to deliver breakfast. He struggled to move forward in the water, and the tires of the tricycle splashed water droplets. At that moment, I saw a tenacious spirit, a love for life.

With the passage of time, life in the alley has also undergone changes. Tall buildings have gradually replaced low rise houses, and the honking of cars has also drowned out the “creaking” sound of tricycles. However, that tricycle and its tires have always remained in my memory.

The tires of a tricycle, although ordinary, bear witness to the ups and downs of life. It is like a silent guardian, accompanying people through one journey after another. It carries hope, dreams, and countless warmth and emotions.

On the path of life, we will also encounter various difficulties and challenges. However, as long as we roll forward with perseverance like the tires of a tricycle, we will surely overcome difficulties and move towards the other side of success. Let us cherish those ordinary yet great things, just like the tires of a tricycle, leaving behind our own wonderful life in the long river of time.