Welcome to the home page of the Wesley Ringers, the adult handbell choir of a United Methodist church in the suburbs north of Dallas. I'm Judith Valerio, the director. By day I'm a payroll manager, which means I count all week, and on Wednesday nights I stand in front of eleven grown adults and ask them to count, and they look at me as if I'd asked them to juggle. I rang handbells all four years of college and swore I'd never direct. I have been directing since 1996, as a volunteer, and I would not give it up for anything, including sleep.

Eleven ringers, from 31 to 75 years old: two teachers, a retired engineer, a nurse, a bank teller, a dental hygienist, a retired postmaster, an accountant, a stay-at-home mother of three, a retired music teacher, and a man who repairs elevators, which is more useful in a handbell choir than you would think. Not one of them read music well when they started. All of them do now. The roster and the bell assignments are on the Who Rings What page.

Three octaves of handbells, from middle C (as it's written; a handbell actually sounds an octave higher) up to the C three octaves above it: thirty-seven bronze bells, every note and every sharp and flat in between. They were bought in 1987 with memorial gifts, and each case has a small brass plate inside the lid with the name of the person it remembers. They're a Schulmerich set, and they still sound wonderful.

Three octaves of handchimes, the same thirty-seven notes, made of aluminum tubes instead of bronze bells. They have a softer, rounder, hollow sound, like a bell heard through a closed door, and we use them for quiet pieces, for communion, and for anything where the bronze would be too much. Ours are Malmark Choirchimes, bought in 1996 with the proceeds of four years of spaghetti suppers.

We rehearse Wednesdays from 7:30 to 8:45 in the choir room, right after the chancel choir finishes, which means the chancel choir carries out their folders as we carry in our tables, and there's a five-minute traffic jam in the hallway every week that Lydia White, the chancel choir director, and I have agreed to call "fellowship."

We ring in the 11:00 worship service on the first Sunday of each month, plus a few special services.

Our big one, every year on the third Sunday of Advent, in the sanctuary, with the lights down and the Advent wreath lit. About forty minutes of music, free, with a reception in the fellowship hall afterward, where the ringers' spouses bring cookies and the ringers eat them. This year's program:

1. "Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus" · bells
2. "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" · handchimes
3. "People, Look East" · bells, with every technique on the terms page at least once
4. "Of the Father's Love Begotten" · bells and chimes together
5. "Still, Still, Still" · handchimes, with the chancel choir
6. "Carol of the Bells" · bells. Of course. Every handbell choir in America rings it in December, and every audience in America wants it, and we are not going to be the ones who disappoint them.
7. "O Come, All Ye Faithful" · bells, with the congregation and the chancel choir singing

Rehearsal count: twelve Wednesdays between now and then, or eleven once you take out Thanksgiving week. I have counted them. I count everything.

Our G4-A4 ringer, Sharon Holmes, is expecting her first baby on January 8, and while she fully intends to ring the Advent concert ("as long as the baby counts to four"), she'll be off the bell table from Christmas until at least Easter. That position is G4, G#4, A4 and A#4, right in the middle of the table, just above middle C. It carries a lot of the melody in the lower voices, and it's a wonderful place to learn, because you're surrounded by experienced ringers on both sides.

You do not need to read music well. You need to be able to count to four, come on Wednesdays, and stand for an hour. I will teach you the rest. If you can ring before December 12, even better: I'd love a backup in case the baby has other plans. Please, please e-mail me. I am not above bribery. There are cookies.

• Gloves, always. White cotton gloves, every time you pick up a bell. The oil and salt on your skin will tarnish the bronze, and a fingerprint left on a bell overnight can etch itself in. We keep a box of gloves in the choir room for guests and for people who forget theirs. You know who you are, Joe.
• Never touch the bronze, even with gloves on, unless you have to. Hold the handle. Damp against your shoulder, not your hand.
• Never set a bell down on its lip on a hard surface. Lay it on its side on the padded table, or put it back in its case.
• Never ring on a bare table. Our tables have three inches of foam and a cloth cover, and that's what martellato and plucks land on.
• Polish twice a year with handbell polish and a soft cloth, never anything from the kitchen. We do it the Wednesday after Easter and the Wednesday before Advent, with pizza.
• Back in the case at the end of every rehearsal, every bell in its own slot. If there's an empty slot, nobody leaves. This rule has found three bells in three years, one of them in a ringer's tote bag.

Every April, handbell choirs from around North Texas spend a Saturday together at a big church in Fort Worth: rehearsals all day under a guest conductor, a few classes, lunch, and a massed concert at 4:00 with every choir ringing together. Last spring there were twenty-two choirs and about two hundred and fifty ringers in one room, and when we all hit the first chord of the final piece, Irvin Langley, who is 75 and has seen a great deal in his life, said he got chills. We're going again in April 2000. The music comes in January. Sharon says she'll come and hold the baby.

Handbell Terms for New Ringers · Who Rings What

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since March 1999. Thank you for listening.

Write to Judith Valerio: [email protected]
(Especially if you can count to four.)
Last updated September 15, 1999