The Three Legged Clay Elephant

I was talking to a friend today who had doubts to what they were doing, so I thought I would write them a short story.  I am by no means a writer, but I hope the point gets across. 

In a little town, stood an old and intimate, brightly coloured shop filled with giggles and laughter of children. The smell of freshly baked gingerbread men tickled the air as the full bloom flowers seemed to beckon in the gentle breeze. Although the shop wore no sign, it was obvious from the beaming smiles on the children's cherub faces, that happiness was made here. Through the window, above excited heads, stood an elderly couple with cheeks plump with kindness, and eyes shining with playfulness. Their clothes wore stains of colourful paint, glitter and stars, as their hands cradled a lump of special clay. The colour of the clay changed from different angles, with changing temperature to match, when a quiet child, with his head shyly lowered, poked it. 

"Please be gentle", chimed the elderly couple together, as they gave a tender smile. 

"Why? It's only clay...", whispered the child as he slowly hid behind the lavender coloured, timber workbench.

The elderly man knelt down to face the child as his wife gave the boy a gingerbread man with chocolate buttons. "Ah, because the clay is just like you", the man replied as the boy quietly held the cookie near his mouth in both hands, and timidly took a nibble. The old man ruffled the curly brown hair on the boy's head as he continued.

"You see, when we get the clay, it's soft and untouched. There are no impressions, no dents, no marks, no shape. That's you when you were little, more than you are now. But since people often think we there is little use for a lump of clay, they think of something they want to make."

"Like an elephant?", queried the boy as the last crumbs fell out from the corners of his mouth.

"An elephant, a car, a house. The only limit is the person's imagination for now. So as they think of a shape-.."

"Or an elephant..!", exclaimed the boy excitedly.

"Or an elephant, that they want, they start to mould it. They add bits where they need to, and take out bits where they want", said the man as he manipulated the clay into an object which seemed to have three legs, a trunk, and one ear.

"That's not an elephant! That's gross!" exclaimed the boy as he poked hard into the clay.

The old man frowned. 

"But it's an elephant to me. That's what I think an elephant should look like, and if it can still play with it like an elephant, then it is, isn't it?" 

The boy stood silent for a couple of minutes, and finally nodded in silence.

"There you go. But maybe you're right. Maybe you want to change it into something else? How about a dog? But now there's a big hole where you poked it, and the clay is getting hard now."

"Oh no! Quick! I'm sorry..! I do so would like a dog... Can you fix it?", the child asked as he clasped his hands with concern.

"Sure, but we have to warm our hands up to make the clay soft again. Now when our hands are warm enough, we hold the clay with both hands gently and remould it again. See?" As the old man's radiant hands warmed the clay, the 'malformed elephant' became the shape of a dog. The boy's eyes widened in wonderment as a smile came across his face.

The old man placed the clay dog in the outstretch hands of the child as he gave a final piece of advice.

"So like the clay, you can choose to be what you want to be, which only you can be happy with. But not to another one's idea of what it should be. It could be a three legged elephant with a hole, but as long as it works for you and that is what you really want, then no one can tell you otherwise. But if they poke and prod it long enough and hard enough, it might make a hole in your clay elephant. And if you want to fix or change it, you have to give warmth to it from the love of others and yourself. Because that will help remove the hole and dents and scratches. From there, with the support of your family and friends, like the embracing hands around the clay, that will help you reshape it to what is the next thing you want and can be happy with."

As the old man finished and slowly rose from his bended knee, the child looked at his clay dog-elephant, and smiled the biggest and brightest smile that was ever in that little shop in that little town. 

"Thank you! I'm going always keep this clay warm and be proud of my animal."

And you know what? He did and still does.

- Ivan Chew (c) 2012