There was a small boy who had an elephant,

In looking after it he found relevance to responsibility,

He grew up and although while young he was brash, he soon learned humility.

The elephant grew up with him and they loved each other as brothers,

They walked and worked the land, they smiled and suffered together.

The elephant died suddently when the boy, now a man, was just 23.

He was so sad he cried. He buried it in a huge grave dug with the help of his whole family.

When he had grieved enough and felt he could move on he went to the elephant’s grave and, under a glowing sun, planted an apple tree, small and with tender shoots not yet bearing fruits.

After seven years the tree, healthy and sturdy as it swayed in the breeze and basked in the sun, started to bear juicy, sweet red apples.

Every season the man would return to the tree smiling and full of joy,

He would pick the apples and share them with family, friends, strangers, girls and boys.

The apples nourished them all without prejudice.

And so it goes.


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