By Frederick O'Brien

In a forest, there was an elephant tied to a tree by a string. Although the elephant was big and the string was thin, the elephant stayed where it was.

Sometimes, other animals walked by the elephant and found it beautiful. 

“Come with us,” they would say. 

“I cannot,” the elephant would reply. “There is a string.”

Despite the entreaties of these animals, the elephant insisted it could not move. So they’d continue on their way, puzzled and sad.

Every day, the elephant examined the string intently. It became familiar with its sinew, its rough yet worn texture, and its colors. The string inspired much curiosity, even admiration. The elephant found it beautiful in its way. 

Occasionally, the elephant cast its eyes upwards at the sky and the trees and the horizon and perceived them to be yet more beautiful than the string. In these moments, the elephant thought about what its life might be like if the string was not there, but these thoughts frightened the elephant, and it soon returned its attention to the string. 

One day, another elephant appeared.

“Come with me,” it said. 

“I cannot. There is a string.”

“You can. There is you. The string is small, and you are large. Walk away and it will break.”

The elephant shook its head. “When I pull against it, the string gets stronger. I can feel it.”

“That will pass. Pull and it will break. Please. Please try.”

“It is impossible.”

“You are stronger than the string.”

“No!”

The elephant was suddenly furious with this meddler. It hated it and told it so and asked it to leave. As the second elephant walked away, the first one saw the tattered remnants of a string around one of its hind ankles and wept.

As seasons passed, the elephant’s strength faded. Its mighty and graceful form became feeble. Each day, it grew more frightened, more resigned.

The elephant grew to hate the string, and itself for being snared by it, yet also nurtured for it a love. It was familiar, and yet, an endless mystery. That such a slender thing could restrain so large a creature seemed incredible.

“Come with us.”

“I cannot. There is a string.”

“Come with us.”

“I cannot. There is a string.”

So went the days with the elephant and the string. The elephant gazed at the string and wept, and when it became sick, it did not care.

Now, when the elephant looked at the sky and the trees and the horizon, it was glad, for it knew it would soon be free of their torment. It closed its eyes and cleared its mind, and waited. 

When the elephant died, it tipped on its side, and the string snapped.