Cornerstone Christian Store Blog

(Thanks to The Hill Family for providing us with this unique perspective from afar)

It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was two weeks before Christmas, and we were busy making preparations for the Christmas pageant to be held in our yard. We planned to invite all our neighbors in the small Thai village where we lived. It wasn’t unusual to see an elephant walk down the street with his owner trolling along beside him, carrying bananas and other fruit. I had a brain wave when I saw him that day and thought it would be great to have a live elephant in our Christmas program. It was amazing how easy it was to haggle with the owner and settle on a price of only 1,000 baht ($33) for using his elephant on that day.
    The day dawned, brimming with anticipation and Cheryl, my wife, dressed in her Thai finery, walked out on the second floor balcony. The elephant had arrived, and with fear and trepidation she stepped off the balcony onto his back. With 40 other church members in tow, she was led into town and through the market, distributing invitations to the Christmas pageant. When she returned, I realized something was wrong. The elephant owner didn’t say anything, but he had that look. I inquired, “What’s the matter?”
    He informed that it was customary when renting an elephant that one was responsible to feed the elephant during that time. I had never rented an elephant before, so I immediately sent a friend to the market with a 1,000 baht note. He returned with two tubs of fruit for the elephant and no change for me. The elephant dove his trunk into the tubs and in about eight micro minutes emptied both.
    The owner looked at me expectantly, “Elephant hungry.” I reassured him, “I want your elephant to be full.” He and his friend convulsed in laughter, “Elephant never full.”
    I sent my friend back to the market for more food. This time he returned with two tubs of watermelons and other food bins. In nine micro minutes the elephant emptied it all, and the owner looked at me questioningly. I didn’t know what to do. In 45 minutes the elephant had just cleaned out $60 worth of food, and we still had another six hours to go.
    The owner noticed our row of banana trees beside the house and pointed helpfully at them.
I said, “Bananas, sure go ahead,” thinking it had to be cheaper than handing out money every few minutes.
    The man laughed, “No, the trees.”
    The elephant walked over to the first tree, wrapped his trunk around the tree trunk, ripping its roots from the ground. The man started cutting manhole-size pieces happily gulped down by the elephant.   
    At this point someone came up and announced, “Dr. Doug, we have a problem. After your wife’s escapade advertising the pageant, 400 to 500 people will be coming to watch it tonight.” This was a disaster. Our small yard could hold maybe 50 people in a tight squeeze, but not 400.
“How can we put 400 people in our yard?” I quizzed him.
    “Five hundred,” he corrected me. “Don’t worry, I know someone who can help. My friend has a truck and can get us the bleachers from the school football field.”
    The elephant continued his deforestation program and was on his 14th tree when I heard a beep, beep, beep. Above the fence a crane held a swaying bleacher as it precariously swung from side to side as the ten-ton truck carefully advanced down our narrow street. The truck fit perfectly into the gap where the banana trees had previously been. I congratulated myself that at least something went right, when the owner came up to me as the elephant had just devoured his 16th tree.
    “Elephant thirsty,” he told me.
    We did have a hose, so I took him to it and turned it on. The elephant started drinking. Becoming frustrated with the flow of the water, he wrapped his trunk around it and gave it a sharp yank. The hose tightened and pulled the faucet, then the pump, and finally the water tank right out of the ground. This didn’t help the water come any faster, and he gave another tug. With a groan, the pipes that ran up the side of our house came off, pulling retaining brackets, Spackle, and bricks with them.
    That evening, people started arriving. The bleachers filled, and then the yard, until there were at least 500 people packed in like sardines. The pageant began, and two other doctors arrived to join me as “wise men” riding the elephant. They took one look at the elephant and showed their wisdom by refusing to ride. I climbed on from the second story balcony and with my little box of “myrrh” slowly swayed on the elephant.
    As I approached the crowd I had serious reservations about the whole setup. The elephant started tiptoeing its way through the crowd, and my heart sank as I became diaphoretic. I had visions of the elephant being startled and running amok among the crowd. Since I knew what an out-of-control elephant could do (from The Lord of the Rings), I could just visualize the headlines tomorrow, “Baptist Elephant Tramples Tiny Buddhists.”
    “Oh, Lord,” I earnestly prayed, “Please watch over everyone here. I’m sorry I ever hired the elephant. Don’t let anyone get hurt.”
    Somehow the elephant got to the manger where Mary and Joseph were without squashing anyone, and there an amazing thing happened. He slowly and majestically bowed down before the manger. We had never practiced this. As I slid off and walked forward with my gift, I glanced sidelong at him in astonishment. In a country where elephants are revered, everyone was flabbergasted at the elephant’s spontaneous submission while sounds of “Oh” and “Ah” arose from the group.
    The audience listened attentively as a new believer got up and shared his testimony. Our neighbor, with whom we had shared many times before, came forward and made bold declaration that he wanted to become a Christian. He has since been a faithful follower. To God be all the glory for His use of the Christmas elephant.