When Karl was home for Christmas he came and found me in the sewing room. He had with him a grocery bag that had duct tape on it. He gave it to me and I looked at it a little confused…then he helped me unwrap it. There was a sweatshirt and wrapped in the sweatshirt was a set of bells. Immediately I was confused.
I immediately knew that whatever happened next, I was going to cry.
The bells came from my parents house. They always kept them on the kitchen door. When someone entered the door the bells rang. They rang when my dad came in from chores. They rang when grandchildren came home. They rang when I came home later than my curfew. The bells always rang if the door was opened.
I vividly remember my parents having a discussion when they got a new door if they’d keep the bells because, after all, the bells do put a bunch of dings in the door. They both decided that the bells stay.
My kids all have wonderful memories of walking into my parents house and the bells ringing. It was a wonderful announcement that they had arrived and now the fun could begin.
Well Karl had asked for the bells when we were dividing up my parents processions. I had actually forgotten that he did. He’s taken them from college apartment to apartment. Then the other day he was cleaning his room and decided that they should be at my house…and that my door was the door they needed to hang on.
He wanted his someday nieces and nephews (and his own kids) to experience the same thrill when they came home to my house.
I loved the thought…it also made me cry though. Karl is just the most thoughtful guy….I didn’t want to take them though as it was Karl’s thing from my parents..then we made a pact. When the bells aren’t at my house anymore, Karl will again be the keeper of the bells.
Right now the bells are hanging on my sewing room door. I haven’t figured out how to attach them to my entry door. I sure smile each time I see them. I was blessed to have parents that so welcoming to all their guests, but even more blessed to have an amazing kind son like Karl.
24 thoughts on “The Bells”
Very sweet story! Sometimes it’s the little things that warm our hearts. Enjoy!
Jo that is a wonderful story about the bells! You and your husband have done a great job to raise such a sensitive and caring son! Be proud!
I love it!!
I love Karl stories they always make me smile. And this time tear up….
I love your story. I have always wanted to place bells on my backdoor.
Maybe you could get one of those over the door wreath hangers and put the bells on those.
Karl has a big and soft heart.
Maybe you could anchor the top and bottom of the rope so they would jingle but not clang against the door. Oh another thing…can I adopt Karl?
Karl sounds like a real sweetie.
Thanks for sharing such wonderful memories with us. It makes it even more heartwarming to know the tradition of those bells and the love of family continues.
You could hang your bells with one of those Command hooks.
My mother had a set of bells just like those. My daughter is now the keeper of her grandmother’s bells and they hang on her front door.
Thank you for sharing this very wonderful story!
Great story! You just never know what little thing is going to become so significant to a child that they always remember it.
Heartwarming legacy. I also grew up with a similar set of bells that my mother had on our front door and I have inherited. I’ll know think of you and your family, fondly, when I hear my set of bells chime as the door opens.
Awe…so thoughtful and sweet.
What a treasured gift and what a thoughtful man you have raised!
You have raised a wonderful son. What a powerful gift he gave you. Such a little sound that evokes great memories. I have a little leather shaped train with jingle bells on my door! When the bells jingle, there is a visitor coming. I love it.
Growing up in the 40s through 60s there was always a string of bells on the front door. My parents moved in the early 70s and the bells were put away. When settling my parent’s estate 3 years ago they popped up and are now on my front door giving off great memories.
What a sensitive, caring young man you raised. I know you are proud.
Awww Jo, what a sweet story! I got a little teary myself!
Getting caught up with my reading this morning. I remember the bells at the farm…I cried when I read your post! I will look forward to the jingle when we next visit!