THE CARPENTER OF NOTRE DAME

 

In the early winter of the year 1340 in Paris; Notre Dame Cathedral already showed the dazzling and imposing figure of him. "Emmanuel", the largest bell weighing thirteen thousand kilos, arrived at the foot of the bell tower transported on a cart drawn by four horses that splashed the mud from the rain of the previous day.

—Gérard!, Gérard!, he wakes up, it's about time. —the young man's mother opens the window of the small room to ventilate—; The sun had not yet risen, the hasty woman knew that her son, her only family support, was waiting for a hard day of work.

In the kitchen, on the stove, a heavy pot heats a thick soup whose aroma fills the room with walls blackened with soot.

The young man, after getting up from his cot, goes to the patio to wash up, then, when he gets to the kitchen, he kisses his mother on the forehead and sits in front of the rustic wooden table that he built with his own hands.

While his mother serves him breakfast, Gérard remembers with a slight smile the body of his girlfriend Mirtha the night before in the barn.

"Yesterday Mirtha brought me eggs and ham," her mother told her as she placed a splinter of wood on the fire, "I don't know why she told me to take good care of you," the woman continued with a mischievous smile, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I already told you, mother, that when the cathedral is ready, I'll start as a priest, so you don't have to worry, I'll never abandon you," Gérard said to her mother in a calm voice as if consoling her; After listening to it, her mother gave her a smack on the head saying:

"Liar! God will punish you."

They both laughed. The young man, after putting on his high-necked wool sweater and his cap, said goodbye to his mother and went to his work.

Gérard was a carpenter and had been working on the cathedral for five years. When he arrived, several men, like black shadows, warmed their hands over fires, which gave off thick smoke.

Gérard, also positioning himself in front of the comforting fire, observed the great bell that would be hoisted that same day to place it in his final position; the master builder had entrusted him with the construction of the huge scaffolding that would support the colossal weight, and coordinate the task of that day. The structure had been carried out in its entire height inside the south tower; The young man had to modify all this framework of wood so that the largest bell could pass and be hoisted by an enormous pulley, whose rope would be tied to a team of oxen controlled by several men to ensure that all movements were slow.

When the first rays of sun began to warm the air on that cold day, all the men prepared for the main task of the day.

Gérard, after joking with some of them about the resistance of his scaffolding, concentrated on that mission that, like any movement of heavy elements, has its risks. He agilely climbed to the highest part of the tower next to the pulley, carrying some coils of rope in case something unforeseen arose; six of his companions climbed the scaffolding and positioned themselves at strategic points to observe that the steel mass will not collide with any crossbar, which would cause a disaster. When the heavy animals began to move, the huge bell began to rise slowly; the whole structure creaked, but to Gérard's experienced eyes everything was fine.

—Come on, ladies, hurry up, I have an appointment with my girlfriend today! —Gérard yelled at all those rustic men who laughed, because they knew that Gérard knew his work very well, and they trusted him.

The heavy load rose slowly, when it reached a height of about forty meters, Gérard gave a forceful order:

—Stop, gentlemen! —they all obeyed the indication immediately—; Gérard placed himself in a position that allowed him to see if the edge of the bell could pass through a very narrow and dark sector of the scaffolding, for which he lit a lantern and lowered it there tied to a rope, after checking that everything was in order. well, he shouted to his companions:

"Keep going guys!"

The last section that remained was wide enough so that there was no problem, Gérard felt more relaxed; when suddenly the characteristic sound of breaking wood was heard; one of Gérard's companions who was in the lowest sector immediately shouted:

—It is here Gérard, the column, it does not support the weight!.

Gérard, after ordering them to stop the work, took a coil of rope, crossed it over his chest and began to go down as fast as possible; when he arrived at the place he observed the thick prop was badly damaged; he immediately wrapped the rope around the crack like a bandage; but the rush to avoid the landslide that would kill his companions caused her to wrap the rope twice behind his waist; when he finished, he realized that he was attached to the thick stanchion, now secured, but with no chance of release.

However, knowing the consequences, he gave the order:

-Let's continue!

At the first tug on the thick rope that allowed the heavy bell to climb, the prop creaked once more; Gérard thought that everything would collapse, and managed to shout to his companions:

"Get down immediately, as quickly as possible!"

His companions did so; the ascent of the bell stopped, and the structure supported the weight, but Gérard's forces did not; he was left tied there without anyone being able to help him. After they propped up the sector where Gérard's body was, his companions cut the thick ropes that held him and lowered him carefully; Thanks to his courage, he was able to save the lives of six of his collaborators.

When in the afternoon they appeared at Gérard's house; the master builder, a priest, and two of his companions; Gérard's mother, opening the door of the humble house, immediately understood what had happened, and she only said:

"Bring my son now, it will be very cold tonight, and I have dinner ready for him."

Gérard's companions carried him to his house, lying on a plank, and placed him in the only possible place in his house, on the kitchen table. Gérard's mother cleaned his face and combed it slowly, weeping all her impotence and bitterness; after her, she took off his muddy shoes and placed them near the fire to dry, then she lit a candle on the mantel that lit a crucifix and placed the pot on the stove to heat dinner.

His workmates lit a bonfire in the narrow alley prepared to spend that sad and cold night.

When Gérard's young girlfriend entered the house, she did not feel what she fearfully expected; there, on that rustic table, his beloved Gérard was no longer there; she only managed to kiss those icy hands and after hugging the mother of his boyfriend, he left that place crying never to return; she still without knowing it, still had a future; not so Gérard's mother; all her illusions and her future lay there, on that table, which she held to her now inert only son.

Gérard's companions entered the kitchen in small groups in the dark with their caps in hand to give the last greeting to their dear friend, when they left, someone unknown offered them a bowl of hot soup.

These men around the makeshift bonfire that illuminated their hard faces, warmed their hands on that icy night; they were men of flesh and blood, that history never remembers; despite many times leaving their own lives in those majestic constructions, which seem to be eternal. Many of them, after receiving this hot food from the hands of unknown women, thought that Gérard himself offered it to them with his own hands to calm his hunger as a farewell to a friend... perhaps it was so.

When the sun began to rise above the humid roofs; Gérard's mother opened the door with her apron crumpled in her hands, and addressing all these men, she said in a firm voice:

— Now you can take it, now it belongs to you, I know it will be in good hands.

Gérard's six companions who owed his life to them presented themselves and accommodated him for his last trip on the plank on which they brought him to his mother; someone offered a cart for vegetables to carry it comfortably, but his friends did not want to, they preferred to carry it by hand as a humble tribute; behind them all the other workers accompanied them in a long column, which moved among the townspeople who were silently observing the procession.

When they crossed the farmhouse, the sun illuminated Gérard's face and a breeze moved his hair, the companion who saw his face seemed to give him his last smile, saying a grace from the height of his scaffolding.

When all that group of humble men and women arrived with Gérard's body at the cathedral, the main portal was open waiting for him; They entered it through there and slowly walked through the entire central nave where high scaffolding and thick ropes that reached the floor were still visible. In front of the altar, they placed the plank with Gérard's body on two trestles; three religious offered him a mass, and one of the men whose life the young man saved could not contain himself and shouted out loud:

—Goodbye dear friend, you will always continue to take care of us!

Time passed and the biggest bell is still there, it is the only one that no one could lower... perhaps the brave Gérard takes care of it. All those men and women who lived in that time, today are only shadows of a forgotten and distant past.

Somewhere on the floor of the immense cathedral, there is a small marble slab, on which one can read.

"Here rests Gérard, the brave carpenter of Notre Dame 1320 - 1340."

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