They had worked hard for centuries on the field, faithful to many peasants and lords. They had left their trace on the soil, marking thousands of paths over the wet and muddy soil of winter, or the dry and dusty ground of summer. No matter how hard the weather were, they were ready to go wherever was needed, hitched to the horses. Sometimes to work in the fields, sometimes to carry weights, sometimes to give a ride to their masters.
Time passed and the gum wheels became popular. Then they were discarded. Later, tractors arrived and nobody cared any more about the old wooden wheels. Many perished, rotted after years abandoned outside the old barns. Only had remained some pieces of rusty iron in remembrance of those glorious days, when wooden wheels were essential.
But in the village there was a family with love for the old memories. The grandfather had rescued the wheels of the old carriage just in time. They painted the wood with the bright colours it had had in its best times, and they put the victorious wheels that had survived the modern times, by the main door of the house.

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