I’ll be there with bells on
The sound of bells has always touched my heart in some way—church bells, wedding bells, a school bell
Two of my favourite sounds are bagpipes and bells … Yes, my heart thrills to the sound of bagpipes; I could miss all else in a parade but be sorely disappointed if I missed the bagpipes. I believe I inherited this love from my mother, or perhaps it was passed down through bloodlines, through generations of Scots.
Growing up in southern Saskatchewan, I grew accustomed to the sound of bells and I learned to distinguish them—the locomotive bell, church bells, school bells, sleigh bells and the farm dinner bell—and most of the time, they were a welcome sound.
I heard the bells that signalled remembrance, ringing 100 times in 2018 to summon our hearts to reflect upon the sacrifice of so many in order that we might live so freely. Wade’s grandfather, my father … and all those who gave of themselves so valiantly and with such dedication … heroes that have gone on before us. I remember that day. I remember where I was standing.
My heart turned solemn at the realization of how bells must have rang in residential schools across Canada. It is a history I knew nothing about as a young girl. It wasn’t until I moved to the Yukon that I began to grow in my understanding of the rich First Nations cultures that surrounded me and of what it means to work and to live on this land that belongs to others. I am still growing in understanding of and appreciation for the 14 First Nations that we share this territory with. I’ve gotten carried away … but I am not going to apologize for that. I celebrate the Indigenous Peoples I am privileged to share this land with. One way that I can honour them is to honour their style preferences in this paper.
Perhaps I really am stating the obvious by now, if you haven’t guessed, but this idiom is about bells (bagpipes will have to wait for another time). My husband and I recently had breakfast with some dear friends, Derek and Jenny, and my instantaneous response to their invitation was, “We’ll be there with bells on.” No sooner had I said that than I queried myself with Where did that come from? No idea. But I loved it and wondered why I had not used that idiom before. I speak in idioms, from time to time, not surprisingly as I research them and write about them (the “hazards” of writing a column centred on the same theme for the past few years).
The sound of bells has always touched my heart in some way—church bells, wedding bells, a school bell. Bells that ring to celebrate festivities and holidays. And bells that sound to gather neighbours or even a community. Bells are part of our history, the first ones (with wooden clappers) making their home in China some 5,000 years ago.
It would be fascinating to trace the origin and evolution of bells, but this column is not as much about history as it is about the lingering use of I’ll be there with bells on, an idiomatic expression still used today and one that is thought to be tied to the sound of sleigh bells and horse-drawn carriages.
I’ll be there with bells on has a similar ring to it as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” that song that touches hearts with sweet sadness. And, once again, no idea where the comparison came from just now, except that the trees have turned their leaves to gold, at the time of this writing, and the weather has turned quite cold and I am already gathering mittens and scarves, boots and ice grips—and, as my oldest granddaughter recently pointed out to me, the fact that Christmas is a mere 12 more weekends away (Really?) at the time I am writing this.
This is an idiom infused with meaning, sentiment and sometimes sadness. And, in happy times, the sound of bells is an invitation to an event, a meeting or a gathering where dear ones will be—where delicious food, wonderful music, inspirational art, delightful grandchildren and the warmth of family and friends (and even bagpipes) will be.
And you can bet that I will be there too … with bells on.
