The Boy and the White Elephant

This is a story I wrote tonight, when I couldn't seem to sleep. I hope you enjoy it.

Come here children I want to tell you a story.

“Grandma! What is the story about?”

It is a story about our family, a story from when I was a little girl. I think it is very important for you to hear.

A long time ago, over fifty years now, long before our family ran this large hotel, there was a smaller hotel on the banks of a river. The hotel was called Calm Rising and on the sign was a rising sun. A yellow circle with nine orange lines radiating out from it. This hotel was very small. There were four guest rooms, and a small kitchen where my mother cooked meals for our family and our guests. My father worked at the front desk, welcoming visitors. My sister and I helped run the hotel too, doing the odd jobs and errands our parents asked of us.

It was a simple and happy life. But when I was fifteen, my father began to worry. Where were the guests? Often there were many days without even one guest to attend to. Because my father worried, I too worried. For him. For our hotel.

One morning, I was sitting on the bench out front of the hotel drawing designs with a stick in the sand. My father called to me from inside. He handed me some money. This was my favorite errand. Often he sent me or my sister to the market for fresh groceries if my mother was busy cleaning or preparing rooms. This week we had three guests and we had been very busy.

He gave me a list, and also some new special instructions. I was to look in the market for a small but nice gift to give our guests. To thank them for staying with us.

With the money and grocery list in my pouch, and the instructions in my mind, I took off for the market. It was a pleasant walk, only fifteen minutes along the river side. I could watch the women wash clothes on the banks, and the young boys try to fish with some wire. The groceries were simple enough to get, but I spent some time browsing the vendor's stalls looking for the perfect gift for our guests. Jewelery? No. bells? no. But then I saw it.

A young boy, not much older than I, was selling small figurines. I had never seen him before at our market. When I got closer I saw that all the figurines were the same. They were of a delicate white elephant. As smooth as blown glass but as strong as stone. I told the boy what I needed the gifts for and he agreed with me that they would be perfect for our guests. I bought five. Three for our guests, and one for my mother and my sister since I thought they were so lovely.

The boy asked me what I was doing that night to celebrate the full moon. I told him my family and I typically went to the full moon festival on the beach with the other villagers. He asked me if I would like to see something special instead. Though I had never met this boy, I felt safe around him and said yes I would. He asked me to meet him back at the market when it closed, in one hour. That was just enough time for me to get home with my purchases and return.

When I returned he had packed up his table and had a small pouch on his back. He told me he was happy I came back. He led me into the jungle on the edge of town where the river turns, along a small path I had never seen before. We walked in silence for some time. I wondered where he was leading me. My sandals, adequate for our clean dirt roads,were catching in the underbrush and thorns and rocks were getting in my toes. The boy had no shoes at all on and seemed not to mind the brush.
Just when my curiosity was getting the better of me and I was preparing to ask where we were going, we came to a clearing. The brilliance of the sun was a shock to my eyes after the emerald world of the jungle we had just left. Were there two suns in this clearing? No, only the sun in the sky and the sun's reflection in a still pool. He had taken me to a beach!

I did not know about this pool in the jungle. Only then did I notice what was in the pool. An Elephant! It was so large and still and serene I hadn't noticed it before. He had long ivory tusks around his mouth. I was in awe. Did this boy's family own the elephant? My rapture was broken by a splash. Quite against his majestic first impression, the elephant had playfully taken up water in his trunk and let it spray all over himself and the shore line, including his two audience members.

The boy took me to meet the elephant. It was not his, he said, it was wild. But he spent much time in this pool and so did the elephant and so they became friends. Do not be afraid, he said. The elephant does not want to harm you. If you do not want to harm him, tell him so, with your mind and deep in your heart. What is truly in your heart, the elephant will understand.

With those massive brown eyes, so full of sympathy, turned on me, I believed the boy when he said the elephant could understand.

Would you like to ride him? The boy asked. Will he let me? I said.

The boy laughed and led me to a tree with a long branch that overhung the pool. We climbed out onto the branch, and then the elephant came over. I guess that meant he would let me ride. The boy jumped delicately onto the elephant's back. Clearly comfortable with the massive animal. I clambered on behind him, much less gracefully. Was I hurting the elephant? Were we heavy? Could he even tell we were there?

Then the elephant went for a walk. All evening we rode the elephant along the river, in some clearings and through canopied jungle rooms. And we talked, the boy and I, about many things. I told him about my family, and our hotel. He told me stories of his travels, strange wonders he had seen. We talked about the moon, and the village, and the heart. Then the boy told me something important. Often, by the time it gets to our minds, we confuse what is in our hearts. If we can focus on what we need, what we know in our hearts, the confusion of our mind will clear. I thought about what he said, and then I thought about my father and his worry. Were his mind and heart confused? He worried about the guests because he worried that we would not have money. Was that in his mind or his heart? He needed money because he needed to support us, his family. Wanting to support his family was what his heart wanted. But wanting to run the hotel was in his heart too. He wanted the hotel because he loves our village. He wanted to share the wonderful things of our village with travelers from around the world. That is why he made his wife cook for them, and wanted to give them gifts of thanks for coming to stay with us.

I did not realize the passage of time or where we wandered. Coming into my surroundings again I saw familiar landmarks. We had returned to the still pool. On our journey the sun had set and the full moon had risen. The smell of jasmine and orchids filled the warm night air. The elephant washed himself and us in the pool. Squirting large trunkfulls of water over us all. We helped scrub his back. I was amazed at the toughness of his skin. In the moonlight, wet with water from the pool, the elephant seemed to glow, so white and brilliant, like the figurines the boy sold in the market.

Eventually, I knew, with a sad heart, that I must return home. The elephant brought us back to the tree with the overhanging branch so that we could climb back to the ground. With my heart I thanked the elephant for the day and wished him the full moon's blessing.

Then the boy walked me home. At my door I turned to say good bye. He had gotten a large and perfect lotus bloom from somewhere, which he now presented to me. Thank you, he said, and with a bow, he turned and was gone.

Still thinking about the things the boy had said, I suddenly had an Idea. An idea of how we could share our village with the travelers, and encourage them to stay with us at our hotel. We would give them tours of our village, have special dinners during the full moon festivals, and invite story tellers to come spin tales by our fire. We would share our favorite things about our home with the travelers, and this would make more travelers want to come stay with us.

The next morning I told father about what I had seen, and the elephant and the boy, and my idea. The five elephants still sat on the front desk. My father picked one up and weighed it in his hands. He felt its smoothness, he thought. Then he said Yes, it was a fine idea. It would be my new job to manage these things. Father was trusting all this responsibility to me, a fifteen year old girl! I did not know what to say or how to thank him. But the thanks and happiness was there in my heart, and I think he knew. I threw my arms around him in a hug. Then I realized I should tell the boy my idea too, and thank him for his wisdom. I rushed out of the hotel and ran all the way to the morning market. But the boy was no where to be seen. Not yet disheartened, I ran to the still pool. The boy was not there either, nor was the elephant.

I walked home much more slowly, thinking. Had my adventure last night been real? Was the boy real? Or was he actually the spirit of the elephant. The white elephant, I thought to myself, not just wet and shining in the moonlight but truly white and glowing. Perhaps both the the boy and the elephant had been spirits of the moon, sent to deliver this lesson to my family in a time of worry.

So I phrased in mind what I knew in my heart. A thanks to the boy for the lessons he taught. And a promise to try to keep the needs of my heart clear in my vision and not to let them get confused before they reach my mind.

And that Children, was the day the moon spirits and the white elephant blessed our family. We have them to thank for our fine new hotel, because without their lessons I would not have had the idea that worked so well, and we would not have grown out of the small hotel by the river bend. And that is why we still welcome our guests and thank them for staying with us at the White Elephant. Now how does that sound?