Tale of the Church Bells

 

I used to always like listening to the bells that played at the church near my house. There is a large ravine separating the two and the church sits a top a little picturesque hill. The building is a light brown with highly ornate windows and a steeple atop the roof. Even more impressive than the steeple though, is the lofty bell tower. On Sundays and high holidays the bells would play beautiful melodies of hymns and religious tunes. Surely there are fewer things on this divinely created moving orb better than the sounds of metallic bells chiming on cue. I can only imagine they sound more like the voices of angels than any other mortal instrument does.

A few years ago I decided that I wanted to go and take a closer look at these bells and so I finished my breakfast and then I packed a lunch. I put on my good walking shoes and I headed for the church. There was something very majestic about the building and even more so about the bell tower. My breath grew short and awe struck me as if I were a ten year old at a Disney Theme Park. I walked up to the door and found it unlocked so I preceded into the interior. The inside was just as elaborate as the outside and filled with beautiful paintings and mosaics. The center aisle was flanked by rows of benches on each side that were wooden with a pale red cushion stretching across the length of all of them. Also I noticed one solitary candle on the altar at the end of the aisle. It was unlit and obviously waiting for the next ceremony to happen.

I looked all around for an inhabitant of the building, but found none. Shortly there after I heard a small melody played by the bells and my mind quickly returned to my original purpose of the trip to the church. I located the door to the bell tower and opened it to find a set of winding stairs made of solid gray rock. This part of the church looked distinctly more old than the rest of the church had seemed as of yet. Despite this, I climbed the stairs to the top and then I saw the object of the investigation, the bells themselves. I was amazed by their beauty. I sucked the sight in with my eyes, but then out of the corner of my eye I saw him. There he stood, the hunchback of our community. I must admit that up until this point in time I did not realize our community had its own hunchback, but there he stood. At first I thought my eyes were lying to me or maybe this was a dream. Surely there is not actually a hunchback in this tower, but despite my fervent protests about how stereotypical this was, the vision of the man never went away.

After I rubbed my eyes one last time for verification's sake, I approached the small man who was wearing brown robes like a monk. He faced towards me and greeted me pleasantly. He told me his name was Matoose and he was the bell keeper. I now faced a very real awkward pause. What exactly was I supposed to say to a man who lived in a tower and just so happened to be a match for a fairy tale character. Grasping at straws I asked him if he knew any good songs that he wasn't allowed to play on the bells. He replied he could play whatever he wanted to, but societal norms prevented him from playing Ukrainian Bell Chorus or Silver Bells except at Christmas and he also was not allowed to compose symphonies on the bells. Next I asked him if had ever read Victor Hugo or seen the Notre Dame in Paris. He replied no. I feel confident he hadn’t seen much of any television, but somehow he knew I was making fun of him when I suggested he should watch more Disney movies.  Due to my stunning inability to communicate with Matoose I tried one last question. I asked if he knew any classic rock and roll he could play on the bells. His face turned just a little bit sour and he just said "Hells Bells boy!" To this day I don't know if he was an AC/DC fan or if he was swearing at me in an antiquated vernacular used by bell keepers to insult medieval knights. I will probably never know.

Time has gone on since that day, but I often think about old Matoose up there ringing his bells, and every once in a while if your paying attention you can hear a few lines from Sister Christian.

"You're motoring
What's your price for flight
In finding mister right
You'll be all right tonight"

Note: This picture of Colmar Cathedral is provided for you to have a picture of a grand cathedral in your head. Just to make your mental picture more exciting.

picture source