The Bell Ringer

A priest stands alone in his church. It is a beautiful old church with a great tall bell tower. Suddenly, the front doors of the church open and a hobbled old man walks in. He is barely able to walk and his back is so hunched he can barely look up at the priest. The old man walks up to the priest and says;

"Father, please help me. I am an old, tired, and feeble man. All I want is a purpose and a bed to sleep in. Is there anything I can do for your church? Any way I can be of some help to someone?"

The priest looked down at the sad old man with pity in his heart and said;

"My son, it grieves me to see one of God's children in such a state. Of course you are welcome to stay here, but you need not work to earn your keep."

To which the old man replied;

"But Father, I seek a job, a purpose, something to give my remaining time some meaning."

The priest thought, then said;

"Well, it's not much, but we do need a new bell ringer, though I fear it may be to strenuous a task for you."

The old man said;

"I'll do it. Please just give me a chance."

So the priest lead the old man to the top if the bell tower, showed him how to pull the ropes to ring the gigantic bells, and showed him the bed for him there in the tower.

"You can stay here. We will bring you food everyday and all you must do is ring the bell every hour, on the hour, the appropriate number of times," The priest said.

The old man thanked him and the priest returned down stairs.

As the first hour drew near, the priest began to worry. He thought of the man's hunched back and his twisted arms, and began to doubt the man would be able to ring the huge bell. But sure enough, when the hour came, the bell rang loudly and clearly and the appropriate number of times.

For the next few days, the priest worries lessened as the bell continued to ring perfectly every time.

One night, as the priest sat reading in his study, he began to be curious about how the broken old man was doing it. He had been so sure the man's wilted body would not be capable of exerting the effort required to ring the great bell.

So, near the hour of 9, he quietly went up the tower to watch. As the time grew near, he watched the man get up from his bed and stand facing the bell at a few paces. The man checked the clock and when the hour hit 9 exactly he charged face first into the bell, creating a resonant, clear ring. The man repeated this eight more times, ringing the bell with his own face each time.

The priest watched in horror, but when the old man finished and turn back to his bed, among the bruises and cuts on the man's face, there was a giant smile. He was so happy to have a purpose and home that he almost didn't feel the pain.

The priest returned downstairs, worried, but unsure what to do. He decided that he would let the man continue, but he would make sure to check on him more often.

Finally, Sunday came and the church was full of people. The priest gave his sermon and listened as the bell rang proudly in the middle of it. An hour after that, during a hymn, the bell began to ring again, but, unlike any time before it, the bell stopped two rings short of the proper number.

The priest was worried by this, but was unable to stop the service, and knew it would be over soon.

After the service, he was heading for the base of the tower when he heard a great deal of noise coming from outside. He was worried about the old man, but felt he needed to check outside first.

When he got outside, he saw a huge crowd of people near the base of the tower, all focused on something on the ground in the middle of the group. He quickly made his way through the crowd to the middle, only to find the broken body of the old man lying there in a heap.

The priest assumed the man, in one of his mad charges at the bell, had missed and tumbled from the tower to the ground below.

"Father, did you know this man?" someone asked.

"No" said the priest, "but his face rings a bell."