The Grandfather Clock

At the church building where I work, there is a grandfather clock in the library.  It was donated to the church in memory of a loved-one, and was built by hand (possibly from a kit) by the donor.  It’s a beautiful time piece and one can tell just by looking that lots of love went into the making of the clock.

I like grandfather clocks.  I don’t know why, but there seems to be a kind of magical quality about them that intrigues me.  The strikes of the chimes on the quarter hour are a source of peace to me, and the announcement of the hour brings warm feelings.  One of these days, I’m going to hopefully have one that will serve me the rest of my days and continue to serve whoever gets it after I no longer need it.

The clock had not run, however, since we started coming some six or so years ago.  I had always wondered about the clock; whether or not it was broken, why it wasn’t running, and whether I could try to get it going.  I talked with our lead preacher, who told me to go ahead and see what I could do with it.

I scooted the clock away from the wall and opened the back.  Seeing nothing to indicate anything broken or bad, I went ahead and wound it, started the pendulum, adjusted the feet of the clock so it was somewhat level, and left it.

Coming back a couple of hours later, the clock was still ticking and was keeping good time.  I put the clock back to the wall, continued with some finer adjustments through a couple of side doors to the mechanism, and set the time.  I also worked to make the chimes accurate with the time shown on the hands.

I only wish the clock would be somewhere where I could hear it through the day as I work here.  It’s in another room a couple of walls away, and there’s no way the chimes can penetrate through them.  I do, however, check in so to speak, with the clock to make sure it’s running and accurate.  I continue to tweak the pendulum speed to make it as accurate as possible.

I don’t know that there is any great life lesson in this little story.  Sometimes, things just are what they are.  Oh, I suppose I could wax eloquent about the passing of time or the love of the one who created the clock; or perhaps I could go into that old story about, “Did that clock just come together by chance, or was there a creator and designer?”  But I’m not going to do that today.  I’ll let you figure out any life lessons there may be for you, and I’m going to be satisfied with the knowledge that a grandfather clock that was silent for several years is running again and keeping time…whether anyone is in the room to hear and see it or not.  That will be enough for me.