River City Ringers of Omaha Scholarship

Many years ago, when I was probably five years old, I played a little yellow handbell in "Happy Birthday". I was the smallest one there, and I felt a little silly, playing just one note. It was a G, perhaps, or F, or A. I don't exactly remember what note, but I remember how much I worried I would play my note at the wrong time. I figured it was a one time thing, that even if I messed up, I could just go back to playing barbies and never bother with a bell again. But I could not have been more wrong, and I never could have imagined how much handbells would come to mean to me. In sixth grade, I started playing violin, and as I entered high school, switched to viola, and joined choir at Central High school, my eagerness to participate in music grew. I have always loved fiddling with whatever instrument I can get my hands on, and I love making music with other people, so when my friend mentioned that I should join bell choir, I quickly decided I would go. From the first time I sightread with the group, I was charmed. The beautiful sound of the bell alone was wonderful, and the unique sort of collaboration necessary for handbells inspired me. I had to not only read the music in front of me, but also listen and respond to the bells around me with a special attention not found anywhere else. Of course, in orchestra, and choir, listening is vital, but to each hold a note, and to weave your note into a melodic line without having any control over when and how the other notes are played takes a focus and musical sense that exceeds anything else I have experienced. Beyond these intricacies, bell choir is such a deeply emotional form of music. In many communities, there is great emotion and importance associated with the sound of the bell. They sing of life and death, herald in bridal parties and funeral processions. With such history even the humble handbell carries the weight of all this. It sings of whatever the piece was intended for, yes, but also of community and coming together in our highest and lowest moments. As you can guess, handbells have come to mean a great deal to me, in the two years that I have been blessed to experience them. As I go on to pursue my undergrad in viola performance, with singing as my secondary instrument, I dearly hope to continue with bells. Thankfully, the school I am committed to, St. Olaf, has a fine handbell choir. And beyond college, I know I will always try to find time in my life for bells, for the sake of their history, their beauty, and the joyful connections they bring.