One day last spring Morris and I returned from our walk in the woods and sat on the porch gazing out at the garden.... I suddenly realized I couldn't see my bell as it was all overgrown.. Not only I couldn't see my bell, I couldn't even remember the last time I rang the bell.. I believed when we closed the nursery was the last time...years and years. Since customers were spread throughout the garden I rang the bell one-half hour before closing so that they could start checking out... I loved the bell and I loved ringing it
In early days all churches and towns had bells... They were rung on all special days and occasions. They were rung as alarms and to celebrate joy. What a terrible shame to have a gorgeous bell and not ring it. So all summer and fall we rang the bell every day at the end of our walk... We're not walking in the snow now but we ring the bell when we finish morning chores... How lucky I am to have my great big, beautiful, cast-iron bell.