Inside the Spin-Mosaic Studio

She informed me with an unwavering gaze and a twinkle in her teddy bear brown eyes that, in similar tradition to the Loch Ness monster, Mermaids and Sasquatch, we had a local mystery right here in Indiana---that roamed the isles of our small-town grocery store in the same way that Sasquatch haunted the shadows of the mountains I saw from my bedroom window when I grew up in Seattle.

The Pacific Northwest, so it seemed, was home to the elusive Sasquatch. What does Indiana have: a Pink Polka-dotted elephant. Who knew?

She did. And, she very much wanted ME to know about it.

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Legends told of a humanish-ape-like creature that fearsomely roamed the mountains with the spirit of intelligent furry incognito. They called the gorilla-ish, skunk-smelling, arm-swinging, 7-foot forest-wanderer, "Sasquatch". It was here that I spent just four of my formidable growing up years. I have long since moved on in proximity from the region, but the stories and the mystery will always be with me.

As I remember (from the lens of a child), every once in a while a new story would surface on the local news with a slightly lower ranking on the interest-alluring public-news-pizazz scale than hot topics like cheese donations at a local food pantry or a fiber factory employee-of-the-month honored with free toilet paper for the next year (yay?).

Sasquatch sightings were in that mix; but with the addition of one consistent fact. I was only 10, but the observation was not lost on me. There was a snow-ball effect. Or, imaginary inspiration, shall I say.

I remember my Dad announcing from an after-work perked slouch on our brown leather couch one day that there seemed to be more random Sasquatch sitings when the normal news was low on hot topics. Hmmm. How did the Sasquatch know when society was bored and needed a sighting? When did the general public need to to be reminded of a local legend and the mysteries that lie beneath? Mysteries...

My dad was a history teacher back in his pre-administrative days. He knew well the trends of society and culture. He knew the tales and legends and convenient spins that media has aroused over the course of distant and recent history.

Sometimes people just need a good mystery to take their minds out of the mundane. Sometimes people need to wake up or be lulled with the power of curiosity instead of the pandering of a report. There is allure in imagination that is not to be underestimated even if you never actually see the shadowy swinging arms of a Sasquatch or the wriggling tail of a polka-dotted elephant with antlers roaming your grocery store.

Imagination reminds us to keep rounding the corners...

Strangely enough, when one new Sasquatch sighting was reported, more sightings ironically emerged within hours or days. The following weeks would be a sudden onslaught of creature sightings, mysterious moving branches on non-windy days, large looming gorilla-shaped shadows on the outskirts of campgrounds and cats by the dozen reported missing. 

Despite the common reasons (like mouse-hunting or sheer independence) why cats disappear, during the weeks following Sasquatch newsflashes, every farm animal or household pet that turned up missing in outlying rural communities, bedroom subdivision communities, or inner-city dog parks...were attributed to the roamings and wilings of the Sasquatch.

I lived in the Pacific Northwest for 4 years. I have lived here for 32. I had no idea we had a local legend until last week.

It was un-sought-after revelation that came in the form of a tale spun by an over-interested and endearing grandma who stopped to adore my 1-year old grandson riding in my grocery cart. Her blue eyes lit up behind the thick lenses of coke-bottle glasses while gray hairs fluttered in the wind of her own breath at the sides of her ears.

Something about this charming woman made me want to stop and listen. She had something to say and she was going to say it... even if I grabbed the handle of my grocery cart and sprinted away.

Her husband knew it, too. He paused by her side with eyes that roamed  to the rows of milk gallons behind glass doors. After a few seconds, he shifted the weight of his hips, locked his knees, lifted his chin and folded his hands. He knew he needed to hunker down and let her talk. His body language was a patient pause of endurement (and endearment)! He let her talk because he loved her. I knew this.

My act of grace...was to stop, listen and smile. She had something to say, and he was thankful that she was pausing to talk to me. I suspected he had recently received an earful--as recently as the last isle. Such is love. 

She: "You know, when my grandchildren were little, I wouldn't tell them we were going to the store...when we were going to the store."

Me: smile politely. Raise eyebrows. 

Her: Her "No" was more of a crooning goose-cackle. "Nooooo, I told them we were going to hunt for the polka-dott elephant that lived at the grocery store 'just like how the dog lives at our house'... I would say."

Me: ears perked...eyes squinted out a smile (???)

Her: "Every time we went down an isle, I would tell them I saw the polka-dotted tail round the corner to the next isle. They would giggle and scurry along. Their eyes got real big!" She said with the excited voice of a child as her eyes got real big.

Me: "Ahhhh. They were little and they believed! What a fun game that kept them happy at the store. (Wink) Did they ever see it?" 

Her: Loooooong pause/soft whisper. "I don't know. Did they?"

And that was it. Thats what she needed to say. There she stood, frozen in the memory. I let her smile on. I let her remember. I said nothing to spoil the moment for her.

After about 20 seconds (which is a long time in American response-culture), her husband looked kindly away from the rows of milk with a glint in his eye that invited me to bring closure.

My grandson was too young to understand anything but her spirit of kindness. She waited. I was unsure what she wanted me to say next. The moment was as bulging as a ripe watermelon, but as empty as the sound of a tin can rattling down an alley.

I am not often at a loss for words...until the sacred weight of a moment in time silences me. Her love of her memory was so strong that it was...sacred. So, despite the invitation to speak from her husband, I just took my baby's hand, patted his back, and let her remember a little bit longer.

It was then that I thought I saw it out of the corner of my mind's eye. A flicker. Finally, my imagination engaged. Was that the fringe of a shopper's sweater some 30 feet away snagging on an end-isle corner of a potato chip bag that flickered? Or, was that the tail of a polka dotted elephant rounding the corner that is now...just out of view?

I leaned in and kissed the cheek of my baby grand-boy. With my eyes turned towards her, I whispered. "Hey, Buddy...lets go find that elephant!" For whatever reason, his infant heart caught the contagion of the moment and he flashed me a 4-toothed smile. Together, we and the cart began rolling away.

I said nothing more. Neither did she. Her husband's chin dipped into a very very subtle nod that could not have been more astute than the salute of a soldier.

That...is what she needed to see. It wasn't about what I said in response. She...needed to see us roll our cart away and continue her search. She needed to know her polka-dotted elephant was still there...in someone's imagination, if no longer her own grown-up grandchildren.

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Long after my daughter picked up the baby that evening, I found myself in a state of mind that resulted from a turn of circumstances that required the kind of prayer where there is no messing around.

While giving reverence, some prayers require a brand of matter-of-factness. The quietness of my heart spoke in the direction of God's ears, and God's alone,

"Please, help this. And then, let me know it. Okay? I know you hear when we pray and I know you answer and act because You said so in the Bible. But, today, I need to tell you that I really need to know how You have answered."

A picture instantly formed in my mind of the patiently loving and waiting husband with his hands folded.

My mind stepped back into those fully ripe seconds when I tried to figure out what to say next. In truth, I was at a loss of words because this stranger seemed to know about my secret love of polka-dotted elephants.* And, for good reason.

But, how could she? She didn't. God did.

The woman--this grandma---she was asking me, telling me, sharing with me and pleading with me...to keep looking for her polka dotted elephant.

To me, the elephant was intensely personal...and, intensely personified...as the Spirit of Creativity with which I was born--the best of who I am and have been. I am an Artist. I may spell "artist" with a lower-case "a" on my down days. The elephant spells it with a capital every day.

I felt a knowing. Like pulling up to a parking space in town and stepping up to the meter to find that a quarter had already been inserted into the tiny metal slot, I knew my present prayer had been active before I even prayed...and, before the circumstance suddenly arose for the need to pray.

My answer was a directive to keep looking for the polka dotted elephant. Engage the imagination you have been gifted with. It is your fuel. Don't stop looking.

Just like the spiraling of the Sasquatch stories after one juicy newsclip on an average boring Tuesday between cheese donations and a year of free toilet paper, once we begin looking for what we can't see, we may find miraculous possibilities just around the corner that we would never see otherwise.

Follow the tail of the polka dotted elephant.

Keep the spirit of imagination alive.

There is always hope.

I felt that this was God's answer to me, gently acted out just hours before. I wanted God to fix my problem and let me know how it was fixed. Instead, in God's patience, I felt His answer was a directive to "keep my imagination alive." Is faith, also, not a matter of things unseen?

Know that in context of the prayer, this was 110% an answer. I wanted numbers and specifics and timetables. Instead, I was reminded to imagine.

Believe God's answer is just around the corner. And, remember, like the cart that slowly rolled away, it must be our feet that follow the flicker of the tail. Take that first step and roll with it! What does that first step mean to you?

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"Before they call, I will answer. While they are yet speaking, I will hear." -- Isaiah 65:24

* The Illustrated Blog Article below shares the original story as to why polka-dotted elephants are special to me. Smile! Be imaginative today!