Gayle Roper - Caught In The Middle

Dear God, how forgiving are you toward someone who has become as shortsighted as I have been?

Slowly, weeknights in Amhearst became less terrifying, but weekends held their own special horrors.

And so, on that early September Friday night just after my move, I found myself digging through the trash can for Sunday’s bulletin, which I had just thrown away in my brief cleaning frenzy. I pulled it out and reread it, my attention drawn to the announcement about the bell clinic. I studied the words a few minutes, uncertain.

There had been a bell choir at Penn State, and I’d always itched to play in it. To my ear, bells sound so beautiful—lyrical and somehow angelic. But I’d never had the nerve to audition at school because of the music majors.

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