On The Blackwater

Musing on retirement, writing, puppies, and whatever else strikes my fancy

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Spending my life in 20-year increments: DC, Calif, Maine, & now in the BlueRidge Mountains of VA, where my YoChon, Sadie Mae, has started to blog...

Friday, December 07, 2007

An Old Mantle Clock

Dick prizes an old wooden mantle clock that his grandfather owned, and that he grew up with, hearing the chimes sound the hour and half-hour regularly. When it was passed down to him, it sat on our fieldstone fireplace mantle in Maine, and was wound every week on Sunday. I had to take it in to the clock repair shop at least once, but it was still working down here in Virginia until somehow (not me! not me!) it was over-wound; both the chimes and the time coils were too tight, and it just plain quit.

I missed it terribly; the bong! of the chimes kept me aware of the time anywhere in the house. If I woke during the night, somehow those chimes soothed my soul.

Every once in awhile, I'd take it down from the mantle, peek inside the door to the works, gently tap on the coiled springs, insert the key...but it wouldn't turn, and nothing happened. Back it went on the mantle, silent, useless really.

Two fellows in our choir at church are familiar with old clocks and they periodically clamber up into our church tower to re-set the clock there. I'd thought about asking them to look at our mantel clock, but just hadn't done so.

Now it was years since the clock had chimed, and I would dust it, polish the wood a bit, and leave it alone.

This holiday season, it occurred to me that I hadn't found anything to get for Dick yet this Christmas, so maybe I'd go look for a mantle clock that worked. After all, he is a grandfather and now a great-grandfather; he could start a new tradition with a new clock. In preparation, as I cleaned off the mantle for our nativity scene, I picked up the wooden clock, placing it on my lap to give it a good dusting. Christmas carols were playing on the radio, and as I polished the clock, I said a tiny prayer: Please let this clock work again.

Just that. Simple words, simple thought. And the clock began ticking. Strangely enough, it had the correct time on it...5 pm. The chimes rang! Five times. Sadie Mae was next to me on the couch and must have wondered why I was laughing out loud. Later, when Dick got home from hunting, I excitedly had him come over to the fireplace as soon as he'd taken off his boots and jacket. "Listen!" I told him, "just listen!" His hearing isn't that great, but I'd turned off the radio so there was no other sound but his grandfather's clock, ticking.

That was Tuesday evening. It is now Friday, and the clock has been working, ticking, sounding chimes, AND keeping the correct time to the minute since then. I'm not making this up, but that clock never did keep good time.

The yellowed paper directions inside the door to the clock recommend periodic oiling, but only with special clock oil from a company that existed 50-75 years ago. I think I'll ask those church friends where to find clock oil, and where to apply it. Along with a bit of prayer.

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4 Comments:

Blogger Greener Pastures--A City Girl Goes Country said...

Marion! Talk about answered prayers! I think there's something about clocks and time that's related to the spirit that is inside us. I've had some "spooky" clock things too. Wow, yours is really wild because it started ticking at the correct time too!

9:17 PM  
Blogger Amy Hanek said...

Wow Marion! I truly believe you experienced a Christmas miracle!!

What a nice post and inspirational story in time for the holidays! I wish I had been there... I would have danced around in circles with you and Sadie Mae!!

Merry Christmas!

2:51 PM  
Blogger Pathfinder said...

Well--This is so timely (no pun intended :) )for me as I just had my parents' old grandfather clock arrive, as part of the furniture distribution after my mother's recent and very untimely passing, in FL. It bonged all through my childhood, and here it is, in my VA home. It needs to have its "innards" replaced by a clock person so the pendulum and weights work right. They were removed for the trip by moving van. And then, thanks to your story here about your loyal mantle clock, I will go ahead and wind it, as my late dad used to, on Sundays, and let it ring on forever here in its new home. I had not been sure, until I read this story, whether or not I really wanted to hear the clock again. Now I do. Give your clock a special holiday hug from us over here in town, Marion and Dick!

9:28 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

Oh, Marion, what a wonderful post! Yes, it was surely a Christmas miracle--a wonderful wink from God. A joyful Christmas story of hope--thank you.

10:04 AM  

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