Ring the bells #blogvember

Near the childcare centre is a church. It is quite famous in Canberra. Often it is in the news. It has a bell tower. With trained musicians ringing the bells. On Mondays around 5pm you can hear the bell ringers practising. Benedict and I often hear them as we head to the car. Occasionally, we have parked the car and listened. Sitting quietly listening for a few minutes.

Today, we heard the bells as we walked back to the car. We drove around the corner. We sat and listened. Then a little voice. Mama can we go and see? It is such a pretty sound, he said. I hesitated. It was home time. It was time for the mad whirl of dinner, bath, stories and bed. And then I caught myself. Why not? It is a special, special sound. We got out of the car. Excitedly Benedict sought the entrance through the archway. He followed the path, through the churchyard which winds past graves of the people who lived here before Canberra was a city.

Bell tower

The bellringers were rehearsing. When we made it to the front door, we stood in the vestibule. To our right are the extremely steep stone steps leading up to the bell tower. We could hear the bellringers conversing, discussing the pattern of bells and the order of how they are to be rung. Benedict asked me to open the main door. The beautiful stained glass window amazed him. He’d never been inside a church before. It was interesting, he knew it was a place not to shout and be noisy. We looked in, then we walked all the way round the church yard. Many, many questions were invoked. What’s a church? What’s god? How is he everywhere? Why can’t I walk on the dead people?

What I loved most is that there are many places we have yet to go. The wonder is only just beginning