The morning of the first day of kindergarten
Lining up by last name (of course I’m last)
I feel sick (I cut my own hair the night before)
My mom kneels down and comforts me
Telling me I am confident, smart, beautiful, curious
I am her “little elephant”
In this new wilderness, I want to play
Hanging close to my pack
For now, the lions are my friends
I enjoy playing on the jungle gym with the crocodiles
We take turns going down the slide
There is peace on the plains
But, I grow my tusks and the lions grow their fangs
Now I am more cautious
Now there is Darwin
Now we stay only in our packs
Now I avoid Sarah in the hallway
Now there is a distinct change
I am aware of the rules
I trust my instincts
Did you know that the elephant has an amazing internal compass?
I no longer am self-centered
I have a firm foundation (I weigh more than two Mini-Coopers)
But I am careful of where I step
“Elephant,” my favorite term of endearment
It no longer holds the weight that it used to
It’s just my mother’s simple metaphor
Now there are no more packs
The battle tusks are just a memory
Just an encouraging thought from my youth
Growing tusks
Learning the ways of wilderness
Survival of the Fittest
Being wary of lions
Staying in the pack
Compass that leads me in the right direction
Intuition
Instincts
Understanding
Now when my mom endearingly calls me her elephant
It’s no longer a cure for my insecurities as I am in control of my own life
More of a loving idea
A mother-daughter tradition