The Elephant Who Was Afraid of Mice

Gajju was the biggest elephant in the jungle. He could lift a fallen branch, carry baskets of fruit, and reach leaves that no other animal could touch. Yet whenever a tiny mouse darted across the path, he jumped backward with a frightened trumpet. The birds fluttered away, the monkeys covered their ears, and Gajju wished the ground would hide him.

One morning, a little mouse named Chiku stepped out beside the watering hole. Gajju immediately squeezed behind a tree much smaller than himself. "Why do you run from me?" Chiku squeaked. "I am smaller than your toe!" Gajju peered around the trunk. "You are so quick," he whispered. "I worry you will run up my trunk before I know what is happening."

Chiku sat down so Gajju could see that he meant no harm. "And I worry you will step on me," he admitted. "When your feet come near, they look like four moving hills." Gajju had never thought about that. He carefully moved one foot farther away. Chiku smiled. "Maybe we are both scared of what we don't know." They decided to spend a day together and find out.

First, Chiku showed Gajju the best berry bushes. The mouse knew narrow paths beneath the roots, but Gajju could not fit through them. Instead of laughing, Chiku found a wider route. Gajju lowered a branch so his new companion could pick the ripest berries. They discovered that travelling together sometimes required a different path, and that neither one's way had to be the only way.

Later, Gajju offered Chiku a ride. "Not near my trunk yet, please," he said honestly. Chiku agreed and climbed onto his broad back from a fallen log. High above the grass, the mouse saw the river shining like a ribbon. "The jungle is enormous!" he exclaimed. Gajju laughed. "And from up here, I can see why my footsteps must seem enormous too."

By evening, they were chatting easily. Then Gajju took a step beneath some trees, and a hunter's hidden net tightened around him. He stumbled, tangled in thick ropes. The more he pulled, the tighter they pressed. Chiku slipped safely onto the ground. "Stop struggling," he called. "Let me see the knots." Gajju's heart thumped, but he listened to the small voice instead of fighting blindly.

Chiku began nibbling a rope near Gajju's front foot. It was hard work. He paused to catch his breath, then moved to another strand while Gajju stayed as still as he could. At last, one knot loosened. Gajju gently lifted his foot, and Chiku chewed through the next rope. Together, they opened a gap large enough for the elephant to step free. The broken net fell into the grass.

"You saved me," Gajju said, lowering his head. "I was frightened of you, and you stayed to help." Chiku brushed a bit of rope from his whiskers. "You listened when I needed you to. That helped too." From then on, Gajju walked carefully where mice lived, and Chiku announced himself instead of surprising his friend. Gajju was no longer afraid of mice. Whenever he met someone unfamiliar, he remembered that understanding could make a fear smaller, even for the biggest elephant in the jungle.

Moral: Fear often disappears when we take time to understand others.