I watched him coming across the beach toward me. He was carrying a load of about 20 blankets, straining under the weight. I had seen them before, these vendors, selling their blankets and painted plates and jewelry.
The place was Baja California. I had driven about 1200 miles from my home in San Jose California, to Conception Bay, Mexico. The road was rough but this beach was worth the ride. The warm clear azure water of the Sea of Cortez, had brought me back again, to the beautiful baja coast. It was the middle of December 2002. It was cold up north but here it was warm, about 80 degrees. I was just about to put my kayak in the water when I saw the guy with the blankets headed my way.
It was almost Christmas time but I could see sparce signs of it here. A few faded hand made ornaments decorated a cactus near our camp site. Christmas here doesn't mean a stack of presents under the tree. The kids here are lucky if they get a single present. The children here don't give their parents a long list of things they want and they wouldn't think of complaining that the color just wasn't right or the brand name was incorrect. There's no malls here and no crazy shoppers going nuts trying to find the designer jeans or the Nike shoes. No crazy drivers honking at each other. Fighting about who to gets the closer parking spot. It's much quieter here, more peaceful. Very different.
My mind began to wander and I thought of all the things that were inside of the little wooden trailer that was hitched to my truck. I thought of my life style up north.
My friends , like me, have so much. These people have just barely enough to get along. We have big homes and expensive cars. Their cars are old and dented and held together with baling wire. Our homes and garages are full. We have two or three televisions, High Definition, with surround sound. We hardly have room to put away the things we bring home. Things we never use. Our closets are full of clothes we never wear.
Martin and I had been driving to Mexico now, for the past eight years. I told my friends about what we had seen here in Mexico and I told them about the way the people here lived. Here the children play in the dirt and are happy if the have a ball to throw. An old tire can keep them occupied for hours. Often they don't possess even a pair of shoes. Some live in homes without electricity. Most are without bathrooms in their houses and others without even running water. Many can't attend school
I began to take a close look at the man and his blankets. Then I thought again of the little trailer and it's contents.
Before I left home I had cleaned out my closets. I ask my friend to look in their houses and garages and find the unused things that they no longer needed. I told them I would take these things with me on my next trip. And so they gave me what they had. I told the children, that I knew, to give me the toys that they no longer played with and I would take them and give them to children that had no toys. That's why the little wooden trailer was being dragged along behind our truck.
The blanket vendor tried again, "Senora, look at these" he said spreading some of the blankets out in the sand. Which one do you like? I will make you a good price." I ignored his question and ask "Tu tiene ninos" "Si," he answered "I have a son" "How old in your son." I asked "Mi nino es quatro anos" He said. I began to think of the things that had been given to me. The things in the trailer. Let's see... a four year old. "Martin" I called, "Do you have the keys to the trailer?" "Yeh" he said as he set his kayak back down in the sand. "Will you open it up for me." "Ok" he said. He was just about to launch his boat and had been listening to the conversation I was having with the Blanket vendor. I guess, he had figured where the conversation was headed.
He opened the trailer and for a moment our eyes searched it's contents. Then we pulled out a little pink bicycle. It had training wheels and pink and white streamers falling from the handle bars. It had a white woven plastic basket on the front and it looked shiney new. I knew the little mexican kid would not care if it was pink. The man looked at the bike "Oh no," he said "I dont have money for this bike" I began to explain, "It is a gift from my friends in the United States. It is for your son." "I cannot take it." he said proudly "Oh yes, you must. " I insisted, "It is for you son and it is a gift."
Hearing that, the man picked up the bicycle, said quietly "Mucha Gracias Senora." He headed across the sand toward a little casa that we could see farther down the beach.
As we stood watching him go we saw a small boy coming from the direction of the house. When he saw his father coming, carrying the bike, he started to leap up and down jumping as high as he could and running toward his father as fast as his little legs would carry him. We heard his little voice yelling "Papa! Papa! Papa!" as he ran. He was still jumping up and down screaming "Papa! Papa!" Then his dad set the little bike down in front of him and he stared with wonder touching it as if he needed to convince himself it was real. I felt tears coming into my eyes.
It was at that moment that I thought how senseless it was, for all of the White Elephants we have, the things we no longer need or use, to just sit in our garages and houses taking up space when they are so needed by other people Our children with their closets full of clothing and shoes that they don't even wear. The toys they have stacked to the ceiling that they no longer play with. All of the White Elephants of our lives.
So it was there, that the idea first took shape in my mind. The idea of an Organization that would be there simply to get the things we don't need to the people that need them.
And so it came to pass that this simple act of kindness on that quiet beach in Mexico was the begining of the Elefante Blanco Organization.
And that is WHAT...ELEFANTE BLANCO... IS !
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Elefante Blanco
