Sunday, my
14 year-old son and I went to the Melbourne Zoo to see the baby Elephant born
last month. We made a day of it, riding too the zoo on the train and
having lunch at Central Station on the way home. We had no idea the amazing
scene we were going to witness or the lessons we would learn.
After an hour
on the train and a walk through the zoo, we arrived at “The Trail of the
Elephants” where we found the baby, his mother and the rest of the herd in the
last elephant enclosure.
The baby and
two other small elephants were in the middle of the enclosure near an empty
concrete wading pool. Three large elephants milled around in the shade near the
wall of the large enclosure - quite some distance from the baby who was
curiously exploring the area around the dry pool.
As we watched
the little guy exploring his terrain, we were in for a surprise. The pool area
was fenced with a solitary piece of string tied to tall metal stakes. Normally
there is an electrified wire to keep the adult elephants out of the empty pool
area. Because of the presence of the little elephant, the electric wire had
been replaced with string. The elephants, of course, did not know this.
The baby
clumsily climbed up the concrete area bordering the pool and wobbled toward the
string. As he got closer to the empty pool his head bumped the string. The
baby let out a panicked squeal. He lurched, trying to get away from the string,
but ended up rushing underneath it into the roped off area. He clearly knew
this was a bad thing. He roared his distress - repeatly calling for help. I was
amazed how low his voice was. The lions in the "ROAR" exhibit would
have been proud to have this little guy's resonance and depth!
The other
elephants reacted instantly, rushing to the string. It was clear which elephant
was the baby’s mother as she waved her trunk under the string and scuffed her
feet in the dust. Every other elephant in the enclosure gathered around the
mother, clearly wanting to help.
One of the
elephant handlers appeared at a gate and hurried into the enclosure. The baby
was continuing to call and the adults to answer. The man navigated around the
herd of concerned adults cautiously but quickly and reached the empty pool. The
handler called the baby elephant and lifted the string up. The baby crossed
underneath, rushing to his mother.
Then the rest
of the herd did something amazing, they formed a protective huddle around the
mother and baby. As one massive group, they quickly shuffled away from the pool
area. Once they reached a safe distance, they scuffed their feet and blew their
trunks into the dirt creating a dust cloud. The baby disappeared in the
protective huddle. In the wild, this would serve as very effective protection
and an intimidating display to any would-be-baby-killer!
The elephants
stayed huddled around the little baby while the handlers opened a huge gate at
the far end of the enclosure. Once the herd could see an exit from this
stressful (and dangerous!) environment, one elephant lead the way and the
others followed. The entire heard left the scary enclosure behind and journeyed
to greener pastures.
What if our
church community was as caring as an elephant herd? What if every one of us
responded to the stress the world brings our young? What if we gathered around
struggling and stressed parents to provide strength in numbers? What if our
pastors had stress-reducing strategies ready whenever we feel in danger? What
if our church was the safe environment where at risk youth were shepherded?
What if
nurture came as naturally to us as it does to elephants? It can! We just need
three things: Big ears, quick feet and small groups. We need to be listening
carefully - the cries will rarely be as loud as an elephant! We need to react
to what we hear, running to support those who are suffering, struggling or
stranded. And we need to gather together regularly in groups small enough that
we each know, love and care for each other.
Seven years
ago, our family left Tasmania. During the two years we lived there my wife was
part of a small group that met weekly. Yesterday, a card and a gift arrived
from the small group. They had heard that my wife was going through a tough
time as she dealt with both her father and myself each having a tumor. Her
small group heard, ran to the need and huddled together, signing the card and
wrapping the gift. Even after seven years, a small group never forgets.
There are many
more stories like this one, of people caring for their friends and family
because they listen, gather and care. When we spend time together regularly,
nurture comes naturally. You know this already, if you have a small group that
you call home. If you don’t, perhaps it’s time to start one!
Your Sabbath
School class, or your kid’s Sabbath School class, is a great place to start.
Think through the families you know and enjoy. Invite two or three families
over for a meal (or to the park or a restaurant) and see how the first
“meeting” goes. If you gel well as a group, ask the other adults if they’d like
to “do this again sometime”. You’ll be surprised. People are looking for
community. Your small group is only a meal away!
It is
impossible to quantify the gift you are giving the children in your family or
church family by being part of a small group. Their cries will be heard. Their
needs for community will be met. You will have a group of people ready to care
when a young one encounters his first string barrier or a not-so-young one has
a life crisis that takes them beyond their depth. It may seem small to you but
rushing to their aid, or just gathering around them, could make all the
difference.
Did you know
that a group of elephants is called a memory of elephants? Yes, they can also
be called a herd or a parade. Both of those make sense, but why a memory? We’ve
been told an elephant never forgets. Perhaps this is why a group of elephants
is called a memory. Or, perhaps it is because a small group of people is a lot
like a memory of elephants - it never forgets it’s own.
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For more parenting pondering,
see the "Parently" section of this blog.