Showing posts with label guinea pig. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guinea pig. Show all posts

Sunday, October 20, 2013

"Every time a bell rings . . . "

Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.


My husband has been an usher at our church for many years. Most of the time, I get roped into helping out, which is ok. And if anyone reading this belongs to our church, he gets credit for making up the usher schedule, but I am the one who actually does it.

We have a lot of traditions in our church, as most congregations do, and one of those traditions is that one of the ushers rings the bell three times during the Lord’s Prayer, after the first “heaven”, the second “heaven” and “evil”. My husband asked a while back why we do that. I didn’t know the answer (there are more things I don’t know about church practices than things I do know).

I finally got around to looking it up on line. I thought it had something to do with those particular words, or maybe someone wanted the bell rang three times in remembrance of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and they just randomly chose those particular three words. My husband thought it was something to do with life, death and resurrection.

According to the internet, it is nothing that deep. The bell is rung for the benefit of those outside and not inside. Back in the day, not everyone could make it to church; they had a valid excuse, unlike people of today. Workers in the field or servants who had to stay home to make the meal while the masters were in church would hear the bell ring as a signal to begin the Lord’s Prayer. The second ringing would let them know where they should be in the Prayer and the third ringing would indicate they should be finished praying.

Most churches had at least two bells. The larger and louder one tolled at the start of the service to call parishioners to worship. The smaller bell was called the “Pater”, after the Latin name of the Lord’s Prayer, Pater Noster or Our Father.

The German in me likes the other name this bell was often given, the Kartoffelglock, or potato bell. When the servants working at home heard the bell it was their signal that the church service was almost over. Which meant that if dinner was to be on the table when their masters got home, it was time to put the potatoes on to boil.

I don’t know if any of this information is going to inspire you today. If nothing else, whenever you hear a bell ring, instead of just repeating “every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings”, maybe you will say a prayer as well. 
One of the many churches I saw in Ayacucho, Peru. Which bell was the Kartoffelglock? Or would it be cuy campana

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Bunny the Pig

Ok, we have all had pets which have wound their way around our hearts, little furry creatures who made each day a little bit brighter just by being there with their eyes full of devotion. And then there are other pets. Pets like Bunny the Pig.

Remember junior high science class, sitting in the room with the animals in cages in the back? You know the room I’m talking about, the room with the guinea pigs. The science teacher would open the refrigerator for something or other and the little guinea pigs would squeak in delight, sure that they were going to get a lettuce treat. Do you remember? 

That’s when I decided that someday I would get me a guinea pig. Flash forward many years and many pets to a daughter who wanted a guinea pig, had to have a guinea pig. And there was her dad, living 400 miles away in a different state offering to give her the guinea pig which her step-sister and half-sister no longer wanted.

I do tend to take in the strays.


So, Bunny the Pig came home to live in our basement for many years. The poor thing. With cats and dogs already in the house, she couldn’t live upstairs where one bedroom door left open would be her demise (I will share the hamster story another time). So she was sequestered to the office in the basement, where the door was always sure to stay closed. 

After what seemed like a few decades – I truly lost track, but someone thought it was seven years! – Bunny took a road trip back to South Dakota, from whence she came. My daughter’s sisters said that the guinea pig lived on for several more years.

And who would have ever guessed that while on a volunteer trip to Peru I would someday eat guinea pig. And like it.


Monday, August 15, 2011

Scenes from the roof

The house we stayed in while I was volunteering in Ayacucho had a wonderful rooftop patio. I spent a lot of time up there, either visiting with the other volunteers or writing or just enjoying the southern hemisphere fall weather. I could never get a sense of direction though; the sun being to my north just threw me way off. The views, if I looked straight out were fantastic. If I looked down, though, not so good.

View from the roof top terrace facing in one direction
View from the roof facing in another direction
View out the living room window, zoomed in on the guinea pig farm on the neighbor's roof

In Peru, they call it Cuy (pronounced kwee). Some of the other volunteers I was with just called it, "no way am I eating that." I guess having lived in the Northwoods my whole life, I have eaten enough wild game that a little guinea pig wasn't going to faze me. One of the gals I was with thought it tasted "gamey". Obviously she has never eaten bear meat or turtle. I thought the guinea pig tasted like – well, not quite like chicken, maybe partridge.