There once was an old cathedral in rural England...

There once was an old cathedral in rural England. It was near a small village and most of the people that lived there attended church every week. This was a sad time for the people of this village, as the much beloved bell ringer for the church had fallen ill and died.

The head minister of this cathedral had taken the death quite hardly, as he had been good friends with the man. Reluctantly, he put up a notice in the village square that they would be needing a replacement bell ringer. He knew that a man for the job was needed before the funeral of the old ringer.

Now, the day after notice was posted, the minister was in his study reading when a young man no older than 20 walked in. The minister looked up and asked, "What can I do for you, young man?"

The man, visibly eager to speak, replied, "I'm here about the posting you've made. I want to be the next bell ringer." There was an enthusiasm on this man's face that caught the minister's attention.

The minister, somewhat recognizing this enthusiasm, inquired, "Well that may be something we could discuss. But first, I must know, have I seen you here at the church or around town? You seem rather familiar."

"No, sir, I don't believe we've met before," the man replied.

"Ah, well then, it's very nice to make your acquaintance," said the minister. He reached out to shake the young man's hand, when he noticed something very out of the ordinary. The man had no arms! The minister pulled back his hand and apologized for the gesture.

"It's no problem, sir, I've been without them for my whole life, I'm quite used to that." The man redirected the conversation back to the job. "Now, I'd really like to talk about becoming the next bell ringer!"

The minister, slightly taken aback, wondered whether the armless man was serious. "My dear boy, surely you must be joking. You've got no arms! I mean no offense, but there is no way you could pull those heavy ropes to ring the bells."

The young man still had an eagerness about him, insisting that the minister give him a shot. "I can do it, let me show you! Please sir, I know I can do it. Come with me up the bell tower and I'll show you!"

At this point, the minister was wondering whether the man had some sort of brain damage as well. There was absolutely no way a man with no arms could ring those bells. But, being the generous man that he was, the minister decided to at least humor the man and go up into the bell tower with him.

Once they reached the top of the tower where the bells were held, the minister asked how the young man was going to ring them. "Like this," he simply replied with an odd smile on his face. The man took some step back towards one open arches that made up the bell tower, disregarding the ropes that hung next to him. He began walking slowly, then burst into a sprint, jumped, and smacked his forehead on the edge of the bell.

BWOOOOOOOOONNNG

The minister couldn't believe it. This armless man had just mad the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard come out of that bell. Astounded, he turned to the man and exclaimed, "Dear boy, did you really just do that?"

Unfazed, the young man responded excitedly, "Yes sir! Would you like me to do it again?" Without waiting for an answer, the man once again stepped back to the arch, took a running start, jumped, and smacked his forehead against the bell.

BWOOOOOOOOONNNG

Now, the minister was truly speechless. Although his previous thoughts about brain damage were almost certainly proven, he simply could not believe how beautiful the sound was that the bell made. He looked at the man, seeing no sign of harm to his head, but only a smile that showed how confident he was. The minister then made the final decision to make this young man the next bell ringer.

A few days had passed, and it was time for the funeral for the former ringer. Nearly the entire village showed up to mourn his passing. As the funeral dragged on as only funerals can, the newly appointed ringer made his way up the tower to give the bells a good BWONG-ing after the final eulogy had ended. This was his biggest break, his chance to show the entire village that he could be a great ringer. The excitement from that first day had swelled up until this point.

He listed for the sound of the last "Amen" from the congregation. It was his time now. The armless man closed his eyes to take it all in. After a deep sigh, he took some steps back, broke into a run, jumped, and smacked his forehead on the edge of the bell. Then, to his surprise, he tripped on a large old nail as he landed, stumbled toward one of the arches, and, unable to balance himself, fell out of the tower to his death.

BWOOOOOOOOONNNG ... ... ... SPLAT!

The funeral-goers heard this strange sound and all rushed outside to see what was the matter. To their surprise, they found the newly appointed ringer dead on the ground. The crowd began talking among themselves, wondering who knew this man and whether any of his family was present. One man thought he had recognized the deceased man earlier with a family, but couldn't quite put his finger on it whether it was him or not. Everyone could agree that this man looked familiar.

As the minister finally reached the body through the crowd, he knelt down and wept beside him. A woman in the crowd asked, "Father, did you know who this man was?"

"No," he solemnly answered, "but his face sure rang a bell."