Mom's Brass Bell

Today's story is about a bell. A brass bell.  My mother carried it along with her for her life, and when I was old enough to be responsible for it, it was passed on.

I remember having my tonsils out as a little one and the bell being the means to notify the troops if I needed another popsicle or a sip of water. I remember having Mono and using it then to summon help. Colds, the flu. And when my mother had a Hysterectomy, she used it to summon me.

And in my 20's, I remember tossing it in a box and donating it to Goodwill.

Years passed, and so did my mom, and about 10 years ago I started missing the bell.  There is something about the physical connection of things between us and I wanted it back. (We do really get smarter as we age.)

The Hubs and I spend time nosing around antique shops and I started quietly looking at their bell collections. I'd find a lot of interesting bells, but never what I remember to be a Dutch girl with a wide skirt, wearing a Dutch hat and with a tinkle so melodious that it would call my mother from anywhere in the house.

Out of the blue a couple months back, we travelled to the neighboring small town of Dixon to spend some R&R at a small, folksy antique fair, and blow off steam. The Hubs and I walked through and found some great finds ~

... an old ammo box with great patina that we re-made into a first aid and mosquito repellent storage box;

twenty or so sterling silver spoons and serving pieces that will do well to stamp for garden planting markers;

an old watch and a couple of Edison Gold molded record discs for Grammaphones

and ... a little brass bell.


In the corner of a display cabinet facing away from me, I spied a little brass bell. I picked it up. It was the face of a little Dutch girl with a wide brimmed skirt. I tinkled it, and clutched it to my heart. How strange that memories of the past rise up so strong when you hear them. That was the sound.

The connection to my mother touched my heart. I want this for my children and their children, for them to know this sound. And the vendor who gave the bell to me after hearing the story touched my heart, as well. 

Hey, Mom.