“Come on, ring those bells…” Does anyone else remember these words to a Christmas song? I recall them often, but this week the bouncy melody has acquired new words. Here’s the opening line of my version:“Come on, bang those pots…” Like it? So do I, as well as a number of folks in our neighbourhood block.
In the midst of this pandemic, self-isolation and sometimes self-quarantine, is essential; necessary or not, it’s pretty lonesome. Banging pots becomes a means of showing support for others and supplying strength for ourselves. Here are a couple of points to consider.
Initially, and still foremost in our efforts, is a desire to show our corporate support for so many essential workers. Pots are so insignificant but it seems that’s the only way we can express our heart-felt appreciation for all those who put all they are and have into our safety and well-being. Only consolation for me is that a hospital worker lives across the street and she’s gotten the message. Oh yes, my special friends ‑‑ the bus drivers ‑‑ they hear and honk in return.
The other dominant and vitally important reason for our raucous behaviour every evening at 7 p.m., is to connect with neighbours. At first there were three homes involved, but now a good number of homes on our Maple Avenue block have become part of our noisy activity. Last evening I heard, then saw, several folks from another block up the street who’d joined us. Along with these additional folks have come additional “instruments”: lids and wooden spoons; horns; hockey sticks beating the sidewalk and bongo drums. Welcome and yahoo!
Though I certainly won’t try to compare this to heaven, I have a better understanding of what John wrote in Revelations:
“… the sound of a great multitude … saying, ‘Alleluia. For the Lord God Omnipotent reigns!’”
