My Grandmother's Shelf

I also found this in my ninth grade poetry journal. It is my response to Edgar Allan Poe’s The Bells.

My grandparents lived in three different houses in my lifetime. In each one, my grandmother had a sewing room. In the sewing rooms, she would keep an old metal shelf that was about four feet tall. I think it must have been her mother’s shelf. On the two highest shelves, she would keep her collection of ceramic cardinals. On the lower shelves, she would keep her large collection of small hand bells. They were all different colors, shapes, sizes, and sounds. Most of them were souvenirs from the many places that she had been. My very favorite one, however, was golden-colored, about four inches tall, and sat on a tiny stand. It was my grandfather’s mother’s bell. My sister and I used to dress up in my grandmother’s fancy nightgowns and play “queen.” We would take turns being the queen and being the maid. Whoever was the queen would ring the tiny bell and the maid would come see what she wanted. Every once in a while, the queen would ask for a different bell, and the maid would ring each and every bell on the shelf until the queen heard the one she liked best. Every time I hear small bells ringing, I think of the fun that the queen and maid had in their grandmother’s sewing room.