The Meenister’s Log
The bell had been forged in Scotland, taken to Canada and eventually ended up in Arouca in Trinidad.
It had lain disusused for many years, but now it was to be housed in its own belfry: in a free standing scaffolding-like tower just outside the front door of the Barrow Memorial Church.
It was their pride and joy. And I was asked to dedicate it.
Standing amid a large group of members and friends, beneath the tower, with my Book of Common Order opened at the right place, I started to read the appropriate words.
Standing beside me was the caretaker. She was a wee totally toothless woman who never wore her dentures, had a man’s “bunnet” perched on her head and “baffies” on her feet. She was what we’d charitably call “a character”.
She was intensely proud of her church and of this wonderful bell, so much so that when I had just said “And we dedicate this bell….” and before I’d got to “to the glory of Almighty God”, she grabbed the rope and started pulling on it with the strength of ten men”
The noise was literally deafening, and at the service which followed in the church building I felt my head vibrating and couldn’t even hear what I was saying myself.
I went back to the home of one of my elders following the service, but turned down his kind offer of “one for the road”
It was, of course, a dram of…………Bells