I spent a few hours the other day with my Sunday School teacher who is 80 years old. She was happy to see me and reminded me of how much time had passed since she last saw me. We laughed and chatted about growing up and growing old. She smiled as she told me the story of the bells. Each one sitting carefully on a glass shelf inside a lighted display cabinet that reached from the floor to almost ceiling height. There was one that was too big to go inside of the cabinet. It sat on the hardwood floor right next to it. She told me it was a family heirloom and said it was used long ago as the school bell. The story began with her telling me about first bell she ever received. She described how this little bell was the one that got her collection of over 100 bells started. It was a small red bell with two crab legs for the handle. It wasn’t anything fancy and it sat about mid-way in on the second to the last shelf. She told me how this bell was given to her by a little girl she taught in Sunday School. She proudly told me how I was that little girl. She loved collecting the bells and made sure I knew that every time she told others the story behind the bells she mentioned the little girl who gave her that first bell. I stood there in front of the cabinet thinking of how many other stories were sitting there on the shelves. She was blessed by a bell and I was even more blessed by her stories told in Sunday School classes and right there in her dining room. I was blessed to spend a little time with her, to hear her tell the story of the bells and listen to her share wisdom. I pray that joy bells will always ring in her honor. I am thankful God allowed me to be in her class growing up and I’m even more thankful to sit with her many years later still learning from her teaching and wisdom.