When a gargoyle taps your thumb at 70 miles an hour, it's hard to ignore. For my birthday last week, my 11 year old daughter gave me a guardian bell in the shape of a gargoyle. An unusual birthday present, to say the least.
For those of you wondering just what in the world it is that I have written so far, you are probably in good company. Allow me to explain.
A guardian bell is a little bell that people hang on their motorcycles to keep road gremlins away. (Even as I wrote that last sentence I pictured you sitting at your computer reading with your nose crinkled and your brow furrowed. But stay with me. It's worth the ride. I promise.)
Since my little bell has a gargoyle sitting on top of it, I guess that makes mine even more powerful. After all, gargoyles are put in place in order to ward off evil. So I have been told. But that's not the reason I like it. I like it because of the love that delivered it to me.
Speaking of love, I did not like the Harry Potter finale. There. I said it. Not that the movie was bad. On the contrary. The movie by it's own right was one of the best. The problem is that I have read the book a few times, and know the story too well. And since I know the book, I expected the movie to at least pick up the most important element of the story. It didn't. And I was disappointed.
You see, the reason Harry was able to do what he did at the end of the long-awaited good vs. evil story was because of his mother's love. Plain and simple. She died for him as an ultimate act of love. His wand was able to do its magic because of love. The movie missed making that point. (Although to be fair, some of the other movies did.) Moreover, in the book, "The Boy Who Lived" and "He Who Must Not Be Named" have a long conversation during the final battle. Potter invites Riddle to consider remorse as salvation. In the movie? Not even a hint. Invitation to love? Not there. And it should have been.
So yesterday I was thinking about all of this as I was cruising down the highway. Elder wands, gargoyles, crows. The wind was pounding against my chest as my bike raced down the road, as my mind raced even faster. My little guardian bell that hangs near my right handgrip was gently tapping against my thumb. Hard to ignore, and why would I want to? As I glanced at the little gargoyle it made me smile. I'm not superstitious. I don't believe the piece of metal has any life to it. But that little bell was given to me by someone who loves me very much, who prays for me, and who I would give my life for without hesitation.
And that love makes life worth living.
