Only An Elephant

The first time I saw the small, ivory elephant - swaddled safely inside a clear, white film canister stuffed full off cotton balls - I nearly mistakened it for one of my teeth. Clutching the elephant tightly in my eager 5-year-old hands, I held it out to my mother, asking what it was.

As she held it up to the light, I was able to make out the small carvings of an eye, tusks, and trunk embedded in the ivory, the entire figure small enough to sit comfortable on the face of a dime.

When my great-great-grandmother was a young girl, her father took her to the circus, where she was terrified of the giant, powerful elephants parading around the ring. Shortly afterwards, her father came home with the ivory elephant, saying, 'See? Not so scary - it's only an elephant.'

After that day, the ivory elephant became a reminder to my great-great-grandmother to keep everything in perspective - never to let yourself be intimidated by a problem. Eventually, she handed the elephant down to my mother, who carried it faithfully to every one of her law exams to help her keep each situation and problem in perspective.

One day, I was told as the elephant was packed carefully back inside it's canister, I will inherit this small beacon, and until then, whenever I feel worried about some impending deadline or problem in my personal life, all I have to do is think back to that small, ivory carving waiting patiently in the back of my mother's closet and remember - it's only an elephant.