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A Charming Tale Of A Search For Truth
by Simon Hunt
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A Note From The Author…
Although this is a little difficult to explain, I would like to say a few words about how this book was written.
Elephants was originally written as part of a larger work. It intertwined with, and contributed warmth, wisdom and humor to a spiritual investigation of our most intimate energies. Although the larger work was designed for the mature adult reader, I always felt that I was writing Elephants as a story for all ages.
Elephants is a gentle encouragement toward wisdom, and loosely based upon a story that was told to me many years ago by a very old Hindu Monk. It guides us to be open and accepting, and to weigh and balance many points of view as we travel our path and search for our own inner Truth.
It is my earnest desire to reach forth to all children, be they six or sixty, and in some small way contribute to their personal growth and enlightenment.
Simon Hunt
All the Graphics have been removed from this Free Internet version, and the copyright remains intact. You are free to copy and redistribute this story, but not to charge a fee or accept any payment. Credit to the author and the website must accompany any redistribution.
Introduction
Many years ago, I had a most wondrous opportunity. Now it’s not that wondrous opportunities aren’t presented to each of us in every given moment of every given day. It’s just that I remember, and look back upon this one with a certain warmth and fondness…
He was perhaps a little short, by American standards, but in the part of the world where he chose to be born, his height was quite average. Physically, there was nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. Except of course, that he was the center of the crowd’s attention. And there was always a crowd.
Sometimes it was hard to keep focused on what he was saying, even though you knew it was important, and that’s the reason you traveled thousands of miles at great expense; to hear what he had to say. There was a presence about him that caused a certain lightness of mind; a sparkle in his eyes that could send you reeling.
When he looked you straight in the eyes to make a point, multicolored sparks of light swirled outward and enveloped you in a heightened awareness and new insights and learnings burst forth, flowing freely through your mind at a frenzied pace.
Though we sat there, in utmost stillness, with legs crossed and minds open, afraid that even the slightest of movements would shatter the spell, it felt like we were in constant motion; vibrating at ever higher frequencies.
The fading western light seemed to illuminate him on that night as he adjusted his simple woven robe against the cooling evening breeze. He glanced up at the first evening stars; Sirius and Canopus. They were already shining brightly in the deepening blue. He deliberately shifted his gaze a little to the east and, as he held it there, the darkening veil revealed two shimmering points where before there were none; Alpha and Beta Centauri appeared. He smiled, pleased. In the quiet stillness, the excited gasp of an over ardent admirer was heard, “Look! He calls upon the stars… and they come forth at his bidding!”
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if in contemplation, and then his gaze returned to the sky. His eyes were intently focused on the dark area, midway between Alpha/Beta Centauri and Sirius. Slowly, as he focused there, The Crux appeared. One by one the points of light materialized and arranged themselves into their familiar pattern; The Southern Cross.
Voyagers for many centuries have used this familiar constellation as a beacon; to point their direction and guide their way home. Now, as he focused his gaze upon the Cross, he too, was seeking guidance and his deepest inner direction.
He knew that this would be our last meeting with him. He knew that in just a few short hours, he would be leaving us, and he too would be voyaging home.
He knew that as the morning sun delivered its first rays, to dance warmly upon his weathered face, he would but only momentarily awaken, just long enough to greet the new day with his usual morning smile. He knew that in those few short moments he would joyfully bid farewell to this strange realm that he had come to love and cherish over the past seventy-two years of his life here.
And he knew too, that there would be just a touch of sadness in his inner being; sadness at leaving it behind, never again to return. And he knew that his eyes, grown heavy and tired with age, would then ever so gently close for the very last time.
And he knew what awaited him as he made the transition; he knew the process well. He had been through it so many times before in so many different lives.
It would begin with a feeling of lightness; an exhilaration of ever expanding boundaries as the limits of the body were left behind. He would then be overcome with a clarity of vision, and knowledge that was beyond the realm of the physical body. And he knew that as his new eyes grew accustomed to the shimmering brightness of this new light, that he would see his old friend and dear teacher – who had gone ahead many years ago – waiting there to greet him and continue with the lessons. All of this he knew. And of this, we knew nothing.
We sat, attentively waiting. It was the custom of The Master to sit in silence for a few moments before he began to teach. As he looked over the assembled students and disciples, pausing briefly to cherish each individual’s inner being, he began to radiate a very joyful air.
It did not take long. Soon we were all encompassed, feeling quite light, almost giddy. Such were the powers of the “Enlightened One”, as the local villagers often called him. We were no longer solemn and somber seekers questing the arduous path to enlightenment. We were as little children, and the story hour was about to begin.
“Tonight…” he said, with an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “As has been our custom for many years, now…” he always spoke with many pauses. “You have come to sit and listen… and I to speak… … Tonight… … we will do the same.”
“But tonight… … I will not speak to you… … on such things as the nature of consciousness… … or the discipline of thought… Not that these are unworthy subjects, mind you… … But tonight… I will tell to you a story… … It was told to me many, many years ago… by my beloved friend and teacher… … when I was then sitting… where you are now…”
He glanced up one more time, to see the Southern Cross shimmering in the now darkened sky, almost as if he were reassuring himself of his chosen direction. Satisfied, he then continued.
“Tonight…” he said in a voice that was almost giggling. “I will tell you a story… … … about elephants.”
ELEPHANTS
No one knows for sure how it all came about but the entire village was blind.
As far back as anyone could remember, it had always been that way. Oh, there were some old myths that, at one time, the people of the village could see. But no one ever paid them much attention. No one, at least, that was considered sensible by everyone else.
They were a very organized village. They had to be. Being blind, everything had to be just so. There was an assigned place for everything in the village and nothing was ever out of place. The village elders saw to that.
Whenever someone brought something new into the village, the elders would come together and decide how it fit into their organization of things. If they decided that it didn’t fit in, it was discarded as trash. After all, you can see how just one little thing not fitting in could upset the whole system for everyone.
There were, of course, many good and useful things that were discarded as trash. But that couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t the ideal system but it worked. And that was important to them.
But the village elders had been troubled for some time now. It seemed that more and more of the villagers were taking to an inappropriate idea that just didn’t fit in – the idea that there was an immensely powerful beast that lived somewhere in the surrounding jungle. Some of the village people were even outrageous enough, to think that these powerful beasts were the elephants of old; the massive beasts that were mentioned in their ancient myths. And they even speculated that the mammoth power of these elephants could once again be harnessed and directed, and be of aid to them in many different ways.
The elders found this idea very disquieting; it just didn’t fit in. After all, where but in myths does such a powerful animal exist; one that can clear away the jungle trees by simply uprooting them and moving them out of the way? Why the very idea that an elephant could even exist was preposterous! And the thought that a man could harness and direct such a powerful force was even more so; why it was almost sacrilegious! Everybody knew that the only way to clear the land was hard and tedious. First you have to cut down the trees. Then you have to chop them into small pieces so you could carry them away. And then you have to dig out the roots.
The village elders had tried their best to discourage the people from thinking about elephants. At first they simply ignored it, whenever someone brought up the subject. They hoped it would go away. When it didn’t, they publicly laughed at it. And when that stopped working, they became quite irritated, and took to scorning it.
They said that elephants were nothing more than the product of overactive imaginations with too much time on their hands. They said that the village would be a much better place if all the energy that was being wasted thinking about the elephants, was put to a good use – like clearing away the jungle.
They tried everything they could to make these thoughts about elephants go away. But they couldn’t. And now it had gotten to the point that, unless they did something, they would lose their authority over the villagers. And that would upset the entire system.
So the village elders asked for volunteers that were willing to leave the safety and security of their organized village, and travel out into the world. There they would investigate and settle the question of the elephants, once and for all.
Then they narrowed it down to three men. All three of the men were of good standing in the village. And of course, with the elders, too.
The three brave men made their way as best they could, while wandering through the wilderness.
Occasionally, their path would cross that of another traveler’s. Always they were friendly and engaged their fellow travelers in polite conversations.
Because they were a little uneasy with their task, they never spoke directly of the reason behind their journey. They would not even approach the subject until they were about to part ways, with whomever it was that they had met. Then, as they were bidding their farewells, one of the three would casually say something like, “Well, we must be off now, to find the truth of elephants.”
Most travelers would answer with a simple and polite wish for good luck, not having any idea of what they meant by that statement, or even how to respond to it. There were, after all, many strange religions in this part of the world. Some held the cow to be sacred, others involved the handling of snakes, some even worshipped the sun, or the trees. Perhaps these three curious men belonged to a religion that idolized the elephants.
One day they met a man who was not particularly traveling anywhere. He lived in a nearby town and enjoyed little ventures into the surrounding countryside. He was a good and kind man, even though his neighbors thought him to be more than a little eccentric.
When he was younger, he had been to all the churches and temples in his town, and he was quite familiar with all their different beliefs. But he somehow found them all rather lacking in an indefinable way.
So he would take off every now and then, with no special point of destination, to walk and commune with nature. Here, alone in nature, he found what was lacking in the churches and temples in the cities. Here, he could relate to the beauty of creation and become energized by it. And since he was never in a hurry to get anywhere, he always took the time to discover the coincidence that crossed his path with that of another’s.
So he spent a long time talking to the three blind men. He noticed that they were basically good men, albeit a little vague and mysterious in some ways. He noticed how they seemed to avoid certain subjects, like where they were going and what they hoped to accomplish there. And he noticed a certain feeling of anticipation, as if the three men were expecting something from him. But he could not figure out what it was.
After a good while of conversation, he looked up to see the position of the sun in the sky. He calculated the time and said it was starting to get late, and he must depart soon. The three men responded in their usual way. They started to get up from the comfortable spot where they had been talking, and one of the men said, “Well, we must be on our way, also. We’re off to find the truth of elephants.”
“Well, now… the truth of elephants…” the friendly man said, as he scratched his head in thought. He noticed that their feelings of anticipation had climaxed, and he thought to himself that this is what they had been expecting from him.
“Well, now…” he continued, thinking of all the strange and different religions he had come in contact with; the snake handlers, the sacred cow folks, the tree worshipers, etc. “I don’t know what elephant truth you’re speaking of, but if it’s elephants you want, I can direct you to a nearby city. There is a very fine zoo there, and I’m sure that they will be able to assist you in whatever it is that you wish to know.”
And that is how the three blind men came to be standing outside the elephant habitat, quizzing the passers-by about the lone resident there.
“They are very strong and powerful,” said a thin and frail man.
“They are wise and they never forget anything,” said a doddering old man.
“They seem very slow and clumsy to me,” a fast and graceful woman said.
“And they love peanuts!” a young boy added with much enthusiasm.
This went on for some time, and eventually the three men grew tired and confused by all the varied and different comments. So they went and sat in the shade of a nearby tree.
“My fellow villagers,” one man said. “When we first arrived here, I was very excited by our finding. Now I grow confused at all these different things that people tell us. I think it is all very interesting, but I must ask, ‘What does this prove?’ I find myself becoming quite skeptical. Is it possible that these city dwellers are making fun of our blindness? After all, all we have felt is the fence. We do not know for sure that there actually is an elephant standing on the other side of that fence.”
“Yes,” said the second blind man. “I must admit that I have had similar thoughts. Perhaps there is something about the way we dress, or maybe in our speech, that gives us away – something that lets these city dwellers know that we are foreigners, that we are not from here, and they are somehow making fun of us, or our blindness.”
The third blind man jumped up and waved his arms wildly in the air. It was a peculiar habit, but he often did this when he became frustrated by something – and it somehow seemed to help. When he sat down again, he could think more clearly.
“My fellow villagers,” he said. “What we must do is obvious. We must experience this elephant for ourselves. When we are at home in our village, we use our hands and our fingers as other people use their eyes. We must then see this elephant in our own way. For how else could we report back to the elders and our fellow villagers, if we did not?”
This is how the three men came to be standing by the habitat gate, talking with the elephant’s keeper.
After a great deal of explaining and coaxing, the three blind men persuaded the keeper to allow them into the elephant’s habitat, so that they could “see” the elephant in their own way.
“Now Fozwell, that’s the elephant’s name…” explained the keeper. “…She’s an easily excitable beast. And because she is so temperamental, I can only allow you in to touch, I mean…. eh… see her, for only a very short time.”
“Yes, we understand,” said the three blind men, genuinely grateful to the keeper. This was really much more than they had expected.
“And only one at a time,” added the keeper. “We don’t want to get her too excited, now. Do we?”
“No,” agreed the three men. “We don’t want to get her too excited.”
The first blind man went into the elephant’s house, and guided by his keen sense of smell, found his way to the elephant’s rear end. There he bumped into one of the elephant’s tall and massive hind legs.
Slowly, and excitedly, he reached out and felt the texture of Fozwell’s skin. He absorbed every leathery wrinkle, and every coarse hair. He slid his arms up the elephant’s leg as high as he could reach, and then down until he came to the ground. He tried to wrap his arms around the leg, and then to lift it. Fozwell reacted by swatting him with her tail.
“Time’s up!” called the keeper. “You must come out now.” And the first blind man followed the sound of the keeper’s voice back to the gate.
As the first blind man followed the keepers voice back to the gate, the second blind man made his way in.
The second blind man had a keen sense of hearing. And guided by the sound of Fozwell’s chewing and breathing, he was soon standing face to face with the elephant.
He reached out his hand to touch the elephant, and the elephant, thinking there might be some peanuts in the hand, reached out to greet it with her trunk.
She gently coiled her trunk around the blind man’s hand, sniffing for the scent of peanuts. As Fozwell engaged the one hand, the man used the other to explore and absorb every detail of the elephant’s trunk.
Fozwell enjoyed having her trunk tickled. And to the man, having the trunk coiled about his hand, reminded him very much of the snakes that he would handle as part of his religion’s ceremonies.
So there they stood, man and elephant, elephant and man, each enjoying the other. It was a soft and tender moment that was shared. And then the keeper called.
“Time’s up,” he called softly and reluctantly, for he could sense the feelings passing between the man and beast.
And with more than a little reluctance, the second blind man untangled himself from the elephant’s trunk, and followed the keeper’s voice back to the gate.
As the third blind man went in, he was at a loss; he did not know what to do.
He did not have a keen sense of hearing, nor did he possess a keen sense of smell to guide him. He did not know how to find the elephant.
So he roamed around inside the habitat, reaching out with his arms first in one direction and then in another. And after a few minutes of finding nothing, he sat down to ponder his situation.
As he sat and pondered, he became very frustrated. And as was his habit when he experienced strong frustration, he jumped up and waved his arms in the air. And in so doing, he hit old Fozwell right in the tummy.
He had not realized it but he had come to sit directly beneath the standing elephant.
This sudden jab to Fozwell’s underside did not hurt her, but it definitely took her by surprise. She started flapping her ears and swatting her tail as the man pushed and poked and felt along her tender belly.
The blind man continued, absorbing every detail of the elephant’s leathery skin with his fingers and his hands. He felt the rhythmic expansion and contraction of the elephant’s breathing lessen as he slowly worked his way toward the elephant’s tail end.
He wondered if he had somehow caused the rhythmic movements when he had first hit the elephant, and if they were abating with the passage of time.
He wondered if he could cause them again – if he pushed up upon the elephant once more. So this he did.
He had no idea of an elephant’s anatomy, so what happened next wasn’t really his fault. He had no way of knowing that he was pushing up directly upon the elephant’s almost full bladder. Fozwell reacted in a normal and natural way. She let loose. The resulting stream took the blind man totally by surprise. It literally knocked him to his knees.
The three blind men were, of course, very excited by their discovery and experiences.
Understandably, they were quite deeply moved, for they had encountered the great elephant of their ancient myths.
And now their thoughts were centered about their homes, their wives, children, and friends that awaited their safe return back at the Village.
They were in such a hurry to start their trip back, and relay their findings to the others, that one of the three men left his supply of food laying at the gate by the elephant’s habitat. This was not discovered until late in the evening, when the three men decided to stop for the day and partake of their evening meal.
“Not to worry,” said the other two men. “We will feed you from what we carry. For to return now, and fetch that which has been forgotten, shall cause us to lose much time and waste many miles.”
“My thanks, dear friends,” he replied. “You are right, of course, and I am humbled by your generosity.”
And all three of the men ate in silence, reliving in their minds, their own personal experiences of earlier that day.
The trip back was long and arduous, but it seemed to pass almost without notice to the three men.
There was little talking amongst them, as each preferred to stay deep within their own thoughts, reflecting and contemplating upon their experiences with the elephant.
Back at the village, word of the return of the three men brought all to the village gates, to welcome them home.
There was, of course, a great deal of pomp and ceremony in celebration of their safe return.
As the crowd finally started to unwind and quiet down, the elders asked the first man to speak, and to tell of their findings.
“My friends,” he began. “I have much of great importance to tell you. I have thought long and hard on our return journey of how I should tell you of our findings. For they will affect us all in a very grave way.”
“As you all know,” he continued. “My personal religious beliefs have always been akin to that which is known as the Tree Hugger Religion. And I give thanks to the great God of the Trees for allowing me the opportunity to take part in this historic journey and search for truth. It was surely He who guided our footsteps along the way.”
“As to our findings, I must tell you, my dear friends, first, that elephants do exist. And I must also tell you, that their existence fulfills my religious beliefs. For the elephant is liken unto a tree… and I have hugged it.”
“I have slid my arms up along its holy bark-skin as far as I could reach. And with my fingers I have followed its holy bark-skin down unto where it becomes one with the earth.
“I have truly been graced, for I have been brushed by one of its holy branches, and I am a changed and enlightened man…”
The other two blind men were, of course, flabbergasted by these statements. The Second blind man was the first to regain his composure.
He jumped up and shouted, “Stop!”
The crowd then turned its attention to him and he continued.
“My dear friends and fellow villagers, I know not why my friend and traveling companion speaks as he does. But I cannot allow him to continue. I must set the record straight, for I was there also. I must set the record straight, for I have experienced the elephant also. And as you all know, I am not a Tree Hugger.”
“I know not why, in spite of what we have experienced and found together, my traveling companion wrongly tries to further his own religion. And the fact that I am of the Snake Handling Religion is of no importance here either. The importance here lies in the truth of Elephants.”
“I have touched, and I have felt, and I have experienced the truth of the mighty elephant. And the elephant is not at all like a tree. It is a great and mighty creature. And I must tell you the truth here. It is like unto a snake.”
“For it did coil itself around my arm, and I have caressed its blessed body with my very own fingers. I have stood silent and allowed it to slither about me, as is our custom.”
“No!” cried the first blind man. “He lies! It is as I said, like unto a tree.”
“Come to your senses, my friend,” said the second blind man. “It is like unto a snake!”
“A tree!” shouted back the first.
“A snake!” the second shouted back, even louder.
“A tree!” even louder still.
“A snake!!!”
“A tree!!!”
“Stop!!!!!” Cried the village elders in unison, trying to regain order and organization.
It took a while for the elders to calm everyone down, especially the two arguing traveling companions.
Finally, with quiet and order restored, the elders were able to softly whisper amongst themselves, and try to figure out the best way to take advantage of the situation. For, as far as the elders were concerned, since they initially took a stand against the existence of elephants, they would retain their respect and dignity only if the elephants did not exist at all.
“Perhaps we were wrong, in taking such a strong stance against the elephants,” one of the elders said.
“That doesn’t matter now,” said another. “We have done so, and now we must use this confusion to our best advantage.”
“But what of the truth of the matter?” asked another elder. “Should not we find out the truth before we plot our actions?”
“No!” Was the unanimous reply of the other elders. “That doesn’t matter either.”
And as the elders plotted and whispered, the crowd became impatient.
Soon everyone’s attention came to be focused on the third of the traveling companions, who throughout all the commotion, sat in quiet contemplation, questioning the reasons for the strange behavior of his two friends.
“Let us hear from the third of the travelers,” someone in the crowd shouted out.
“Yes, let him speak,” called out another.
“We know, at least, that he is not a Tree Hugger,” called out another voice.
“And he is not one of the Snake Handlers, either,” added still a different voice from the crowd.
“Yes,” called out someone who knew the man well. “I’ve known this man for all my life. And in all those years, he has not once expressed to me a belief or alliance with any church or temple.”
“Yes,” called out one of his neighbors. “Each Sabbath Day, when I leave my dwelling to go to the temple, he sits on his step and feeds the wild birds. I always invite him. He always declines.”
“Yeah!” said another neighbor, a little vexed. “He doesn’t care about religious matters. The only important thing to him are those damn birds. He doesn’t even care that all those damn bird droppings make my life miserable!”
“Let the bird man speak,” someone called out with a deep and rumbling laugh.
“Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!” Shouted one of the elders, imitating a bird. For as far as the elders were concerned, it would be best to discredit him before he gained the crowds attention and trust.
It’s hard to judge which way a sound will turn an uncertain herd; there is no logic to it. And for some strange reason this anxious crowd, steeped in the herd mentality for years, picked up on the bird sounds shouted out by the elder. Almost immediately, a chant developed.
“Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! – Let the bird man speak!”
“Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! – Let the bird man speak!”
The third blind man grew quite upset by all this. He did not know what to say or do.
Finally, in great frustration he threw his arms up into the air and waved them wildly as was his habit. He did this for some time, for understandably, he was quite confused.
At last he was able to calm himself, and he realized what it was that he must do.
He turned away from the crowd, and walked very deliberately and slowly to the village gates. He then left the village, never to return again. He found a remote place in the jungle in which to live, and this he did until the end of his days.
There were those from the village who came to seek him out from time to time, and question him about the elephant affair. To those who sought him out, he freely told the real truth about the elephant.
“It was, after all, like a giant bird that hovered above him, flapping its wings, while he felt along the underside of its massive body.”
He was completely honest in relaying everything he had personally experienced about the elephant – except for one thing. He never told anyone about the powerful stream that literally knocked him to his knees; this he kept to himself.
He could not comprehend the reason why the great elephant Bird-God saw fit to pee upon him.
And he spent the rest of his days in quiet meditation, and contemplation, seeking out the answer to this most divine of mysteries.
Epilogue
It took a long time, but eventually the village returned to a somewhat normal state of affairs.
Understandably, the topic of elephants was the source of much friction and many arguments among the villagers. The village elders met every day and discussed the situation. Finally they issued an official statement. It stated that after all was said and done, there was absolutely no evidence to support the existence of elephants.
But still, many of the villagers quietly believed. Some quietly believed that elephants were like trees. Some quietly believed that elephants were like snakes. And a few quietly believed that elephants were like giant birds.
One day, an inquisitive little boy was talking to a wise old man who lived near the village.
“Tell me,” the little boy said as he sat beside the old wise man. “What are your thoughts about elephants, sir?”
The wise old man smiled a big smile. And as he was smiling, he replied in a way that wise old men often do.
“What I think is of little importance, young man,” the wise old man said, “What is it that you think, son?” he asked the little boy in return.
“Well, sir,” the little boy replied, “I have listened to what the people have said. And I have talked to all three of the men a number of times. And I must admit, sir, I’m a little confused. When I listen to the one, it seems to me that he is being truthful. Then I listen to the next and I feel that he too, is being truthful. And when I listen to the third, it seems that he is being truthful also. But yet, somehow I feel deep inside, that I have not heard the entire truth.”
The wise old man grinned a big grin. “Well son,” he said, “It seems as if you are off to a good start. I get the same feelings myself.” And then he laughed.
“I don’t understand.” the little boy said. “I am now more confused then ever. How can it be that all three are being truthful, yet each is describing something different?”
“That is what is known as a paradox, son, and the paradox itself is not really all that important. The important thing is what you have already done – and that was no small task, son. You have listened with an open mind, and an open heart, and you have been able to discern truth in what is being said. This is the most important step in realizing the ultimate Truth. To recognize truth when it is presented to you. Even if it seems to contradict something that you already know to be true also.”
Now the rest is simple.” the wise old man continued. “You just have to put the smaller truths together to form the larger truth.”
“What’s a paradox?” the little boy asked, not really understanding the great compliment the wise old man extended to him.
“A paradox is something that seems contradictory, yet it is not. As you grow and search for greater and greater truths, you will come in contact with more and more of these paradoxes, son. They happen because the truths that you seek become so great, and so big, that they can not be viewed in their entirety from just a single point of view.”
“Kind of like a mountain that is so big, you have to view it from all different sides in order to really know it all?” the little boy asked.
“Exactly,” the wise old man replied. “And at first, the mountain may seem to be so different when viewed from its different sides. It may indeed be hard to realize that it’s the same mountain that you’re viewing.”
“I understand,” the little boy said. “The elephant is much more than any of the three suspected. An aspect of it seemed like a tree. And another aspect seemed like a snake. And still another aspect seemed like a giant bird. But the elephant is so big, it has all of these aspects. Maybe even more.”
“You learn very quickly, son,” the wise old man said, getting up and stretching his legs. “It is time now, for my afternoon walk. Come, walk with me a while and keep an old man company. We will talk a little as we go.”
The little boy reached up and took hold of the wise old man’s hand.
“Tell me,” the little boy said, as they started to walk, “What are your thoughts about God, sir? And Love? And Truth? And who are we, sir? And why are we here?”
The old man smiled a big smile. And as he was smiling and walking, holding the little boys hand, a tear formed in his eye and rolled gently down his cheek. He replied in a way that wise old men often do.
“What I think is of little importance,” the wise old man said. “What is it that you think, son?” he asked the little boy in return.
“Well, sir.” the little boy replied, “I have listened to what the people have said. And I have talked to the different priests and teachers many times. And I must admit, sir, I’m a little confused. When I listen to the one… “
And as the wise old man walked and listened, he smiled an even bigger smile.
And another tear flowed gently down his cheek.
For information about ELEPHANTS in hard copy, click here.
