A long time ago, a father was taking his son hunting. They left the Hwong Ho Valley and began to head South towards the Yangtze River. They traveled far and had not yet found any game to be hunted. They approached the waters of the Yangtze, but stopped still when they heard a strong cry echoing loudly from the opposite shore.
The young boy looked on in wonder as a great being came into view. He was the epitome of majesty. He had long, shining, ivory tusks, and a demeanor about him that screamed of power. Against the background of the rolling gray clouds, and the cold beauty of China, he stood proud and tall. He entered the shallow waters of the river. He didn’t realize that two pairs of eyes watched his every movement.
The father nudged the boy and quietly whispered that it was time to leave. He took the young man’s arm and began to lead him away. The boy turned his head and looked back over his shoulder. He caught one last glimpse of the great creature as the raindrops began to spill from the clouds. He slid his trunk underneath the disturbed surface of the water and raised it above his head, spouting water from his trunk and bellowing out another loud call as the rainwater and riverwater coursed down his body.
The weary travelers began the long trek home after an unforgettable, if unsuccessful, journey. The boy never forgot about that incident, that trip, or that creature, and he soon grew to be a man. He worked as a bronze worker, and one day he decided to sit down and create. He worked without reserve, and in a complete trance. He remembered back to that day. He remembered the clouds, the rain, the great strength and power, and the knowledgeable eyes of the beast and incorporated each of them. When he sat back to look upon his creation, he was brought to tears. He kept and admired it all his life.
After her husband’s death, Ming could freely show how she despised the sculpture that seemed to be the sole object of her husband’s affection and happiness. The day after his funeral, she traveled to the Yangtze River and threw it in with a bitter rage in her eyes. She nodded, satisfied, and walked away without a backwards glance. From the other shore, an old elephant tiredly raised his eyes at the sound of the splash, then sighed as his head sunk back to the ground, as his spirit slipped up through the clouds and the rain began to fall.
Copyright ©2002: Megan E. Dickerson
December 5, 2002