Elephant And Friends: A Small Story for Kids with a Big Heart
In the Sundari Forest there was a young elephant, named Elio. He was powerful and curious and philosophical and his trunk turned into a question mark when he was thinking, and he loved thinking. Elio heard the humming of other friends in the woods, and saw them chattering frequently, deer were passing between lines, parrots loudening in pairs, otters slipping-sliding along the side of the river by duos. He was not alone, in a literal sense; but he was not as yet to be considered as having a group of friends.
Elio was resolved to seek friends, in the same manner that explorers seek rivers, by walking till he should find one.
Two otters came to the surface of the water at the foot of the river, with their hairy tails streaming in the sunlight. “Hello, I am Elio,” said Elio, “Can I be a friend of yours?”
“We are doing slick-slides; do you happen to slide?” they chirped. He made a glide, got a squelch, and came to rest with a thud; the otters clapped and went.
“Now I am not an otter, Mate, " he said to his trunk. Cub practiced pouncing in high grass. "Friends?" he tried. "Can you pounce?" She asked.
“You are too strong, try trees.” Sky-threading monkeys in the canopy spoke. "May I join?" Elio asked.
"Can you swing?"
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He pulled a branch; it snapped, and the leaves fell; somebody suggested quietly, "a ground act."
Afternoon Elio was like a puzzle piece nobody knows where to put. He strolled to the big tree in the centre of the forest, where information and naps were shared. The tree was usually buzzing with gossip, but today there was worry. Bees zipped in anxious loops.
"Gone!" they buzzed. The shallow basin’s water is gone!
The forest had a make-shift cup in the form of the shallow basin which had been made generous during one of the seasons when a rock had been loosened. Amidst which the birds drank at mid-flight, and the deer took breaks between bites, and the bees were like skaters over the surface. Now it was dry and cracked.
"What happened?" Elio asked.
The parakeet, who is the keeper of facts, said, The stone slid back. "No rain to help. The little ones are thirsty."
Somebody might be able to move the rock, a monkey said.
All eyes turned to Elio. He did not feel any big thing; he was called. "I can try," he said.
They came into the basin by thorny scrub. The rock sat sulky and lodged. Elio was putting his feet on something as his mother taught him: four corners of certainty. He wrapped his trunk around the rock and gave it a slight twist so that the rock could be tempted to believe that it was switching seats. Elio took it carefully and enlarged the passage with his flattened foot. Water came back via its route: a bead, a puddle, a pool. The first to come were bees and then birds and then deer and then otters and then monkeys and then the shy porcupine who was never early but when he came he was glad with much thank-you. A monkey grinned. "Teach me that?"
Elio didn't boast. It was a night of celebrating by the forest. Monkeys beat on hollow logs, birds strangled melodies on shiny strings, bees buzzed in a straight notes, the otter waggled a dance and the cheetah cub showed off on a low-pitch, flawless pounce more a poem than a movement. Elio found out that his trunk could contain a note in the same way a bridge could contain a river: it is always steady enough so that others can cross. The song went up and down and the forest felt living, thankful, together.
Elio realized that a friendship was not a performance in which you are or you are not. They are gardens which you irrigate with your powers. He got to know that the most successful teams are formed because of differences that fit. And he found out that to be big in a small world can be a good thing as long as you are kind to yourself.
Several weeks after that , Sundari forest faced extreme heatwaves. The water shook low in the basin again. This time the animals had not panicked, but the animals came with whatever they were best at. The monkeys hunted down shady paths in order to keep the little ones cool. Deer had a line to protect the seedlings along the bank. The bees used to survey the nearest flowers with still nectar. The otters brought out wet moss to ensure that the soil was not cracked. The cheetah cube scanned the boundaries to ensure that no one gathered in large numbers. Elio examined the channel, smoothed a crumbling edge and tilted the rock. No one was working alone, everybody worked.
A heron, youthful, and coming of the marsh, had a peep at the bustle, and said, “Is there a leader here?”
“There’s no need,” said the parakeet. “We are all one.”
Clouds finally accumulated that evening. The sky drew out a curtain of grey, and shook it till it fell through silver. The leaves were tapped by rain in a friendly manner. The basin had filled itself, and yet the forest was on guard, acquiring something of the forms of kindness to be used in future. Elio remained close to the overflow path, watching to be sure that everyone was safe.
The daring monkey stood on his shoulder, and asked “Still thinking?”
“Always”, Elio said, curling his trunk. “Water remembers. So do friends.”
The monkey said, “Friends remember that you lifted the rock.”
Elio shook his head gently. “We moved it together. I tugged; you made space, the bees knew the right time, the birds informed the ones in need of water, and the deer kept the little ones safe. Doing something with support is not the same as doing it alone.”
Word of the basin spread. Animals in more distant groves arrived to drink and remain seated to talk and share stories. Elio hoarded these stories like trees hoard water, so that they can be used some other day.
One afternoon a young jackal came, and had his tail low. “Yesterday, I was chasing the parakeet and I am sorry.”
The parakeet made a step, and wavered, and drew himself up. And last month I poked at your ear, she said. “Peace?”
They nodded as if they put their weapons back in the drawer. Elio watched, pleased. The forest was acquiring the skill of mending differences.
There was a single dry spell that was long and slender. By noon every day the basin was reduced to a silver coin. The forest made a plan. The monkeys brought pebbles to fill a small passage so that the water would not go to waste. Drinkers came in small parties, and with birds leading the way, there was no bumping and spurting about. The older and more stable cheetah cub now stared on the farther sides to see that all was well. Elio pressed the channel firm with the flat of his foot, and at night was lying beside it in order to shade the water with his shadow. He did not fix everything but he did his part.
And now the monsoon came out in a good sort of way--a drumroll on a far hill, a kind of curtain-raiser in the sky, then that deep rinsed smell which causes all creatures to relax. The basin brimmed. The forest was no longer thirsty.
That night Sundari gave a silent party beneath the silk cotton tree. Not the beating-drums type; the hearing type. Bees gave nothing but a low laninglantern-hum to the ears. Birds had sewed a tune nestling blissfully in the boughs. The monkeys, unusually so tender, beat the beats with dainty fingers. River-smooth were the otters swaying. The cheetah cub was lying with one paw on the foot of Elio as a friend leaned upon a friend. In the morning, everyone sang a ‘Thank you for the water’ song. Elio smiled. He could not yet slide nor pounce or swing. But he was able to see, pick, steer, cling, and sing true. That was enough. Enough was enough, as it happened, when everybody brought their enough.
And that is what this story of the elephant to children is. It is a little tale of every-day life modeled by community work. It is a story for kids with morals, as it has something to hold onto, you do not have to be like your friends and blend in with them. You must seek out what you need and take what you have.
Moral: Friendship does not consist of duplicity. It’s collaboration, being careful with various strengths. Stay strong when the time needs you to be, care for your friend, and be generous in every case. That’s how forests flourish. That’s how friends do, too.
