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Brings a tear to my eye.....NF


silveradosheriff

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elephant.jpg

 

In 1986, Dan Harrison (see picture above ) was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University

 

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Dan approached it very carefully.

 

He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it.

 

As carefully and as gently as he could, Dan worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

 

The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.

 

Dan stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

 

Dan never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

 

Twenty years later, Dan was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son.

 

As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Dan and his son Dan Jr. were standing.

 

The large bull elephant stared at Dan, lifted its front foot off the ground, and then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

 

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Dan couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant.

 

Dan summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Dan's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

 

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

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Reminds me of this little story that made the rounds years back....

 

A Helping Hand

 

Sometimes, life throws us a helping hand when we least expect it. A few weeks ago, I was rushing around trying to do some last minute Christmas shopping. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the weather right then.

 

It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was loading my car. I noticed that I was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath, I retraced my steps to the mall entrance. As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years old.

 

He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill. Oddly enough, he was holding a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.

 

He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had three brothers and four sisters. His father had died when he was nine years old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made very little to support her large family. Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp and save two hundred dollars to buy her children some Christmas presents

 

His mother on her way to her second job had dropped the young boy off. He was to use the money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take the bus home. He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

 

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked. The boy said, "I did."

 

"And nobody came to help you?" I queried. The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly shook his head.

 

"How loud did you scream?" I inquired. The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

 

It was then that I realized that absolutely no one could hear that poor boy cry for help. So I grabbed his other hundred and made a run to my car.

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