A black string snakes through slightly imperfect ceramic pieces, shapes that clink in the wind, and a rustic bell rattles its tail. Hundreds of these colorful wind chimes are suspended along the windows of a former hotel bungalow turned studio.
Though tags hang from every chime, they are not for sale.
Each is a “Ben’s Bell,” a token of kindness inspired by a family’s tragic loss.
In March 2002, 5-year-old Matthew Packard and his 2-year-old brother, Ben, were playing with a friend when their mother, Jeanette Mare-Packard, noticed Ben’s cough. Soon after, his airway closed and Ben was unconscious.
“It all happened in the course of a few minutes,” Mare-Packard said. Ben died March 29 of croup, just short of his third birthday.
While running a year later on a river trail in Tucson — where many artists display their mosaic tile work — the idea of making ceramic chimes popped into Mare-Packard’s mind.
“Like many grieving parents, I had an urge to want to do something in honor of my child,” she said.
Hundreds of Ben’s Bells were originally distributed throughout Tucson, waiting in random locations with a note for whoever found the bell to take it home and promote kindness.
Almost seven years later, the project has evolved beyond Mare-Packard’s wildest dreams, shifting from a coping method to a pay-it-forward-style symbol of community and kindness.
The operation moved from the Packard’s garage into a studio near the University of Arizona campus, and the volunteer base expanded from the original group of friends to include college students and other community members who stop by to shape and paint the ceramic pieces.
“The pieces are a symbol of community within itself,” said Colleen Conlin, Ben’s Bells’ studio manager.
Large “belling” distributions happen twice a year — on the anniversary of Ben’s death and on a secret date in the fall. At those times, hundreds of bells are dispersed throughout Tucson for unassuming citizens to find.
The giving doesn’t stop there. Every week, a different Tucsonan is chosen to receive a bell via nomination. Ben’s Bells receives hundreds of letters every week.
Dea Salter, a retired supervisor for the Tucson School District, remembered when a principal she worked with was honored with a bell hung on the school fence. “He was over the moon for the longest time,” she said.
Salter sat in one of the studio rooms painting a ceramic flower red on Sunday afternoon with other members of the Church of the Painted Hills in Tucson. They had come to volunteer as part of a service project with the church, but Salter said it was much more than that.
“There’s nothing like giving back to the community,” she said. “And this is kind of therapeutic.”
New York City recently got belling therapy. On Sept. 11 last year, 600 Ben’s Bells were distributed throughout the five boroughs to help bring joy to a city on the anniversary of a devastating day.
Bells have made it to almost every corner of the world. Argentina, France, Australia and South Africa are few of the other countries that have been “belled.”
For 15-year-old Elizabeth Martinez, the bell-making process is a form of global kinship.
“I’m always happy to hear the bells,” Martinez said. “It’s like the wind carries the kindness all over the world and it connects us all.”