When I was 20-something…I lived a in a tiny apartment in Washington Park, Denver. The bathroom had pink tile, a pink toilet and a pink bathtub. I worked 2 jobs to make ends meet. I couldn’t afford to buy a real bed so I slept on a futon. And, I ate a lot of mac ‘n cheese. Remember when you could buy four boxes for a dollar on sale?
I didn’t have much money to spare for going out or to buy anything fancy. But, on weekends I loved to walk around the local antique malls; dreaming of buying the unique and cooky antiques on display. The cookier, the better.
At this one antique mall there was a brass bell. I don’t know what exactly drew me to it. But, every weekend I would go by to see if it had sold. It was only $40; might as well have been $200 to me. I feel in “love” with this bell. It called my name. I’d take a few bucks from my pay checks each week and save up to buy it.
Today, this bell hangs in my bedroom.
From recent research, it is a replica Dutch brass bell cast from bells dating back to the early 20th century. These bells typically hung outside a church. The inscription reads “Vocem meam a ovime tagit” which means in Latin “Whoever touches me will hear my voice”.
I’ve thought about selling it. I looked it up online; and because it is a replica it’s not worth much more than what I paid for it so many years ago. Not the investment I was hoping for.
I realized I can’t sell it though. As silly as it may sound, when I look at this bell it reminds me of something very important: Once I took a chance to do something for me. I moved out on my own; sink or swim. Yes, like most 20 year olds, I asked my parents for money on occasion. I am thankful they were there.
I put myself through art school. I took chances with the jobs I chose. I was really living on my own for the first time. No roommate…no boyfriend…just me.
Once I was brave. It wasn’t until I got older that I lost my nerve.