The Stuffed Blue Elephant

By Ellie Hawkins, TIWP Student

I see her skipping towards me, little pig tails swinging side to side, Velcro shoes that screech on the polished floor and stripped, baggy overalls that hang over her shoulders. She stares me straight down, right into my soul, and grabs me from the shelf, me—the runt elephant whose stitching seems a little off-center. Squeezed between her soft baby hands, I watch her grow older. I move from the center of the bed to being pushed between pillows, to hidden in a dark box full of silence. Once her adventure buddy, I am now a chewing toy for the dog, laying hopelessly in my box, wishing for one more bedtime song.

I see her turn from an unstoppable, giddy little girl to a strong independent woman. I’ve seen her scream her eyes out over a scraped knee and watched her silent tears, heartbroken over a boy. I know all her friends’ names by heart. I could tell even tell you how they feel. Her smile is contagious and her laugh sounds like a dying pig. She despises hypocrites and wants to change the world.

I sit waiting, watching over my girl, hoping one day she’ll pick me back up.

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