By Suzanna Leigh
It was my mother Marj’s 102nd Birthday celebration, and the family were gathered around. The traditional feast was consumed, the dishes washed, and the gluten-free pineapple upside-down cake served and eaten. It was time for presents. Mom carefully, with some help, unwrapped an oddly shaped gift from daughter Jeannie – and her smile lit the whole room!
Inside the colorful paper was a little gray crocheted elephant. She turned it around to admire every side of it, the floppy ears, the long trunk, the soft body, then set it on the table. Next, a colorful tiny key fob elephant emerged from the wrapping. Penny, Mom’s 9 year-old great-granddaughter, arranged the rest of Mom’s elephant herd to welcome the newcomers.
Mom feels a special connection with elephants these days. Her herd consists of half a dozen or so elephants no more than three inches high, one of green jade, one of polished wood, one black enamel elephant with a painted-on blanket, an elephant puzzle piece, a white stone elephant, and now an elephant of yarn and a tiny key fob elephant.
“Mother, do you remember riding an elephant in Thailand?” Jeannie asked.
“Oh yes!” Mom exclaimed.
Jeannie continued, “I remember the path was so narrow that there was only room for one elephant foot at a time. On one side of the path, there was a bank like a wall, on the other side a drop down hundreds of feet where you could look over the whole countryside. Mom, you kept saying, ‘Wow, look at the view, see the little cars!’, but I was too scared. I only wanted to look the other way, at the side of the hill.”
Mom smiled, remembering.
Jeannie had another memory. “I remember when we were in England when I was about five or six years old. There was a live elephant giving rides in a park. I wanted to ride it so badly, but the line was long and father said, ‘later.’ Later, the elephant wasn’t giving rides, so we rode the camel instead. For years I told people Father wouldn’t let me ride the elephant. Then, five decades later when we went to Thailand to visit cousin Riki, I didn’t really want to ride an elephant, but Father insisted. Now I tell people he made me ride the elephant!”
“It was so hot!” Mom remembered. She told us how the elephant went down into the river, filled its trunk with water, then gave its riders a cooling shower. “It was taking care of us!” She said.
A few days later, I asked Mom if she enjoyed her birthday party.
“Oh yes! So many people!” She especially loved that both her sons, John and Steve, were there, also Jeannie, Jeannie’s daughter Amber, and Amber’s daughter Penny – four generations! Jeannie and Amber had come up from Oregon the day before and my brother John and my son Jeremy had endured a long, long ferry line to come from Seattle.
And she remembered the elephants. She picked up the jade one from the table. With a big smile, she told me how cared for she felt when the elephant waded carefully into the river, picked up water in its trunk, and cooled her with a shower.
Here is a woman who has cared for everyone around her all her life. Even as a child, she cared for her younger brothers and sisters. She still cares deeply if she feels that someone is hurt. Decades later, she remembers with joy how the elephant cared for her. Now I understand why she loves elephants so much!
