Thanksgiving Month, Day 29: Of Tiny Broken Elephants and Wounded Tin Soldiers

At coffee the other day you handed me a gift bag; in it, carefully wrapped, were some of my carved elephants that you had found amid your possessions.


Then you drew another elephant out from your breast pocket. "This one is broken ... I'm so sorry ..."

His left front lower leg was missing, hewed off by some unknown, unavoidable force that no one could have predicted would damage him so frighteningly.


I wondered briefly where the missing foot had ended up.


I wondered if he was scared when he heard the grinding sound as stone dislodged from stone. (Get a grip, I told myself, It's an ornament, for heaven's sake!)


I wondered where I would put this tiny elephant who was still saluting so bravely despite his loss.


"I wonder if I might have him?" you asked diffidently.


Of course - that's exactly where he belongs! I thought immediately.


"Of course you may!" I exclaimed, and watched as you carefully tucked him back into your pocket.


And I thought of the day, two years ago this month, when I received that phone call saying, "He's had a stroke - it's not good ..."

Thanks for driving out to help me with the deprogrammed till!

But today, two years later, you are still soldiering on, still with us. Your left hand and foot are sometimes a little uncooperative, you acknowledge. You get tired more easily.


But the point is, you still persevere. You still get up in the morning and do what you believe with all your heart you are called to do.


So keep that tiny elephant safe, a talisman of suffering and courage and gallantry. When you glance at him, remember that you, too, are a survivor, that you are still here for a purpose.


Keep your dream alive. And know that there are many of us at the TH who are rooting for you ...