The Elephant Walk - Apologies: our readers contemplate forgiveness - Brief Article

My mother was moody and often angry. If my sister and I sang, she'd slap us on the side of our noses. If we asked for a snack, she'd push us out of the house and lock the door. But after an hour or two, she'd always invite us into the living room and sit down at the piano and play "The Elephant Walk." It wasn't something she normally did because she was a classical musician, but she knew how much my sister and I loved it. While she played, we'd bow our heads, swing our trunk-arms in wide arcs, and flap our tail-arms behind us. We didn't care that the notes would soon stop and her mood would darken again. We loved her in that moment, and when she played "The Elephant Walk" a second and then a third time, we believed her apology.

Steffe Solva Pedersen
New York City

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