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PAPPY AND THE BELL
(God is Faithful Always)

Pappy was a pleasant-looking old fellow.
He had the whitest hair which he kept
neatly cut and combed. His eyes were
blue, though faded with age, and they
seemed to emit a warmth from within.
His face was quite drawn, but when he
smiled, even his wrinkles seemed to
soften and smile with him.

He had a talent for whistling and did
so happily each day as he dusted and
swept his country store; even so, he
had a secret sadness, but everyone who
knew him respected and adored him. Most
of Pappy's customers returned for their
good, and he did not do much business,
but he did not mind. To him, the shop
was not a livelihood as much as
a welcome pastime.

There was a room in the back of his shop
where he spent time tinkering with a
menagerie of his own precious items. He
referred to this back room as "memory
hall." In it were pocket watches, clocks,
and electric trains. There were miniature
steam engines and antique toys made of
wood, tin, or cast iron, and there were
various other obsolete trinkets as well.
Spending time in memory hall delighted
him as he recalled many treasured moments
from his past. He handled each item with
care, and sometimes he would close his
eyes and pause to relive a sweet, simple
childhood memory.

One day, Pappy was working to his heart's
content reassembling an old railroad
lantern. As he worked, he whistled the
melody of a railroad tune and reminisced
about his own past as a switchman. It was
a typical day at the shop. Outside, the
sun illuminated the clear sky, and a
slight wind passed through the front
screen door. Whenever the weather was
this nice, Pappy kept the inner door open.
He enjoyed the fresh air--almost as much
as the distinctive smell of antiques
and old engine oil.

As he was polishing his newly restored
lantern, he heard the tinkling of his
bell on the shop door. The bell, which
produced a uniquely charming resound,
had been in Pappy's family for over a
hundred years. He cherished it dearly
and enjoyed sharing its song with all
who came to his shop. Although the
bell hung on the inside of the main
door, Pappy had strung a wire to the
screen door so that it would ring
whether the inner door was open or not.
Prompted by the bell, he left memory hall
to greet his customer.

At first, he did not see her. Her shiny,
soft curls barely topped the counter.

"And how can I help you, little lady?"
Pappy's voice was jovial.

"Hello, sir." The little girl spoke
almost in a whisper. She was dainty.
Bashful. Innocent. She looked at Pappy
with her big brown eyes, then slowly
scanned the room in search of something
special. Shyly she told him, "I'd like
to buy a present, sir."

"Well, let's see," Pappy said, "who
is this present for?"

"My grandpa. It's for my grandpa.
But I don't know what to get."

Pappy began to make suggestions.
"How about a pocket watch? It's in
good condition. I fixed it myself,"
he said proudly.

The little girl didn't answer. She
had walked to the doorway and put
her small hand on the door. She
wiggled the door gently to ring the
bell. Pappy's face seemed to glow as
he saw her smiling with excitement.

"This is just right," the little girl
bubbled. "Momma says grandpa
loves music."

Just then, Pappy's expression changed.
Fearful of breaking the little girl's
heart, he told her, "I'm sorry, missy.
That's not for sale. Maybe your grandpa
would like this little radio."

The little girl looked at the radio,
lowered her head, and sadly sighed,
"No, I don't think so."

In an effort to help her understand,
Pappy told her the story of how the bell
had been in his family for so many years,
and that was why he didn't want to sell it.

The little girl looked up at him, and with
a giant tear in her eye, sweetly said, "I
guess I understand. Thank you, anyway."

Suddenly, Pappy thought of how the rest of
the family was all gone now, except for his
estranged daughter whom he had not seen in
nearly a decade. Why not, he thought. Why
not pass it on to someone who will share
it with a loved one? God only knows where
it will end up anyway.

"Wait...little lady." Pappy spoke just as
the little girl was going out the door~
just as he was hearing his bell ring for the
last time. "I've decided to sell the bell.
Here's a hanky. Blow your nose."

The little girl began to clap her hands.
"Oh, thank you, sir. Grandpa will be so happy."

"Okay, little lady. Okay." Pappy felt good
about helping the child; he knew, however, he
would miss the bell. "You must promise to take
good care of the bell for your grandpa--and for
me, too, okay?" He carefully placed the bell
in a brown paper bag.

"Oh, I promise," said the little girl. Then,
she suddenly became very still and quiet.
There was something she had forgotten to ask.
She looked up at Pappy with great concern,
and again almost in a whisper, asked, "How much
will it cost?"

"Well, let's see. How much have you got to
spend?" Pappy asked with a grin.

The child pulled a small coin purse from her
pocket then reached up and emptied two dollars
and forty-seven cents onto the counter. After
briefly questioning his own sanity, Pappy said,

"Little lady, this is your blessed day. That
bell costs exactly two dollars and
forty-seven cents."

Later that evening as Pappy prepared to
close up shop, he found himself thinking
about his bell. Already he had decided not
to put up another one. He thought about the
child and wondered if her grandpa liked his
gift. Surely he would cherish anything from
such a precious grandchild.

At that moment, just as he was going to turn
off the light in memory hall, Pappy thought he
heard his bell. Again, he questioned his
sanity; he turned toward the door, and there
stood the little girl.

She was ringing the bell and smiling sweetly.

Pappy was puzzled as he strolled toward the
small child. "What's this, little lady? Have
you changed your mind?"

"No," she grinned. "Momma says it's for you."

Before Pappy had time to say another word,
the child's mother stepped into the doorway,
and choking back a tear, she gently said,

"Hello, Dad." The little girl tugged on her
grandpa's shirttail.

"Here, Grandpa. Here's your hanky. Blow your nose."

Give, and it shall be given unto you;
good measure, pressed down, and
shaken together, and running over, shall
men give into your bosom. For with the
same measure that ye meet withal it shall
be measured to you again.

God's Promise through His Word (Luke 6:38)

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Page Updated Thu Apr 1, 1999 10:57pm EST