In the middle of the bustling city of Utrecht stands an old tower, gray, and tired, but proud of how far it has come. Every hour, its bells ring across the streets marking the rhythm of people’s days. For some it might be the rush to work, a hurried lunch, or a long walk home. The Belltower has watched generations pass below it, but lately it’s been feeling invisible. The people are no longer looking up, they had tiny luminescent screens that told the time better and brighter than any bell ever could. 

One April morning, a small blue jay landed on the edge of the belltower’s worn out stone ledge. His feathers beautifully popped in the sunlight, and his voice was excited, like the one ready for

what’s to come. “Good morning, old tower!” the little blue jay said. “What a beautiful view you have up here!” The tower groaned “beautiful?” it said. “There is nothing beautiful left to see. Only noise, smoke and people who never stop to breathe”. The blue jay tilted his head “But I see children laughing playing alongside the canal, and a stroopwafel baker opening his doors, and the sunlight dancing along the water of the old Dutch canals. Isn’t that beautiful?” The Belltower sighed, a sound like metal and other heavy parts creaking under weight “I used to think so. But I have stood here too long, I have seen too much rush, and too much forgetting. They used to gather when I rang, watching my hand move. Now I count their hours, but no one counts mine.” The blue jay came closer as his wings brushed the old stone. “Maybe they forgot to listen, but that doesn’t mean your music isn’t worth hearing.” The Belltower took a long pause, it was not used to being spoken to so kindly. The blue jay sang a beautiful but short tune. The busy city of Utrecht below them hummed with noise, cars, voices, footsteps, but his song floated above it all even though it was small.

When the bells struck noon, the tower rang louder than it had in years, the notes were clear and sounded like gold, and a few people stopped walking. A little boy looked up, big brown eyes looking at the sky as his mother smiled, others followed the little boy’s gaze. “See?” The blue jay whispered when the ringing of the bells started to fade. “These people just needed a little reminding.” The Belltower felt something deep within its complicated gears, something like joy or potentially peace. “Little bird” it said quietly, “you see beauty where I saw rust. You have reminded me that time isn’t only meant to measure how fast we move, it is also meant to show us when to stop.” The little blue jay chirped proudly. “And you have reminded me that even things that seem still can have a meaning.” The very next morning, the blue jay returned with a little twig in his beak almost as if it was shaped like a bat. He began to build a nest inside a crack near the face of the tower. Day by day, he carried tiny pieces of grass and string, humming to himself as he worked. The Belltower watched quietly, and felt something it hadn’t felt in years, friendship. 

Every morning he greeted the sunrise and told the tower what he had seen below. “Today” he would chirp “the streets were dressed in Orange for Kings day” or “A little girl gave her spot on the bench to an old man.” The tower listened and slowly it began to see the world through his eyes again. And every noon, when the bells rang people started to listen. Some stopped to record the beautiful sound. Some closed their eyes letting notes reach their hearts. The tower realized that even though the city had changed, the world still had small, quiet curiosities, if one only stopped to notice them. One evening, as the sky turned orange and the streets glowed with the final light of the day, the Belltower asked “Why do you stay here, little one? Don’t you wish to fly beyond the city to the Swiss mountains or the Red Sea?” The blue jay looked at the glowing sunset and smiled. “Maybe one day” he said. “But right now, I like being here. The air smells like freshly baked bread, and the canals sparkle when the sun is setting. That’s enough for me.” The Belltower’s gears ticked quietly, as if it was nodding. “Then maybe I should stop wishing for the past and start enjoying the present.”

Many seasons had passed. Spring into summer, summer to fall, the blue jays chicks grew strong and learned how to fly. They sang beside their father every noon, as their songs blended with the tower’s bells in a melody that filled the city with warmth. People began to gather in the square again, not looking at their screens, but to truly listen and to feel. Then one winter morning, the blue jay did not come. His nest was empty, and covered in snow. The tower waited, day after day, and the wind breezed through its aged cracks.

When the bells hit noon, it rang as loudly as it could, hoping that he would hear it wherever he had flown to. He never returned. Again, the tower kept on ringing, and below the people still paused to listen. They smiled when they heard those beautiful bells and some wondered why it comforted them so much. The Belltower knew exactly why, each chime of the bells carried a memory, laughter, and the voice of a tiny bird who had taught it that time’s true gift is not its passing, but the moments we stop to feel it.  And on quiet, lonely nights, when the stars shined bright above the city of Utrecht, the tower swore it could still hear the little blue jay’s song, as it danced peacefully between the bells. 

Biography

My name is Sebastiaan, and I’m going into my senior year at Heritage. I love golfing, fishing, and playing soccer. I’m a Canadian that moved to the United States this past August.

What is your main source of inspiration?

My main source of inspiration was the Church tower (switched to bell tower) in the city of Utrecht, NL. The roots of this story originate from my various visits to the Netherlands, and as mentioned specifically Utrecht. The blue jay part of this story comes from my Canadian heritage. As a “Torontonian”, and in honor of the Toronto Blue Jays playing in the World Series at the time of it being written, led me to choose a blue jay.

What motivated you to write this piece, and what is its message?

I wanted to share a story that could appeal to anyone. Wether it was a co-worker, teammate or even a family member, the importance of not taking genuine friendship and positivity for granted is the main message I wanted to share. Anything can happen at any time, so make the most out of every moment we have with each other, and live life to the fullest.