For Whom the Bell Tolls . . .

I have stories to tell, and this week I have had no time to tell them.  So I’ll just tease them here, and hopefully over the next week or so I’ll get them all told.  I came back from Allentown with stories of carts on wheels, homemade dog treats for Zoe, and a bent piece of gridwall that may have saved my life.  And on Tuesday, I learned to count to 37 – over and over again.

But this is what you get today.  I went to the chiropractor this week.  Across the street, a Catholic church broke ground recently and work has begun to construct a new sanctuary on their campus.  It has been fun to watch the progress as the steel beams went up and the skeletal shape of a church appeared.  But while I was in Allentown, something new appeared that I had never considered . . .

The bell was hung in the bell tower before the tower was constructed.  I guess this makes sense – but in my mind I saw the new church, completely finished, and some kind of ceremony being held while a crane hoisted the new bell up to the top of the tower where it was put in place and rung for the first time.

I realize it’s easier this way, but it just seemed strange.  Or maybe I’m the one who is strange . . .