Just through the red door lies a mystical place where live the little known creatures, the ones the world looks upon as myth and legend.  In this realm, they live and breathe, just the same as you and I.  Journey with me through the red door, to the place of imagination and we will find a new dimension of reality.

The new day calls out with an invitation from those beyond the door.  It is they who wish to meet us and share their tales!

I hear Grandpa Ansel, a respected elder, calling now, his voice strong and commanding.

“Hark, noble ones of the realm!”

Through the red door the day seems quite normal.  As the growing season draws nearer, everyone is pressed into service to prepare.  As has always been the way, even the very young are assigned chores.  You see, all gnomes know that if you don’t work, you don’t eat.

It isn’t a case of thinking that a lazy gnome won’t be fed, but a reality that, within the community of garden gnomes, if they don’t do the work, there will be no food.  Not only will they go hungry themselves, but also the population of the entire palace in Rehoboth.

This vast expanse of garden doesn’t belong to the gnomes.  Gnomes are not landowners nor have they ever been.  It doesn’t enter their mind to own the earth like it does in human minds.  While the regency of Rehoboth considers themselves the rightful owner of all the kingdom land, the gnomes know better.  Having a much longer life expectancy than the humans, the older gnomes like Grandpa Ansel, have seen the land fall into the possession of several members of the royal family.  The royalty each believed they owned it, yet the land remained long after each of the owners had journeyed homeward to their eternal rest.  The gnomes understand that the land belongs to no man.

Content on tending the land, they work happily to aid the land in producing all that is needed to live.  It is no bother to them that most of the fruit of their labor goes to the palace, as alltheir needs are met in the bargain.

Today, however, we hear some complaining coming from the fields.

“It’s too big.  We’ll never finish digging this field,” Galen moaned, stopping his work and staring at the untouched area of the field.

“We won’t finish as long as you’re complaining and not digging,” answered Rolf, one of the garden foregnomes.

“How long must we dig?  Spade after spade, all day long and there is still so much left to do.  There is no way we can turn this whole field,” added Galf.

“Young men,” addressed Rolf, “Finish digging your rows to the end of the field and we will all take a well-earned rest and have a bite to eat.”

With grunts and groans, the youngsters resumed their work, motivated only by the promise of food, water and a rest.

Retreating to the shade, they straggled like they could drop any second.  Having overheard the exchange between Rolf and the boys, Grandpa Ansel moved over to the shady spot where the girls had set some water pots and hampers filled sandwiches, vegetables from this very garden, and sweet treats.

As the boys attacked the contents of the hampers like a pack of ravenous wolves, Grandpa Ansel cleared his throat. as always, he said, “Draw near, dear ones.  Gather close and hear the wisdom of age, for you are just beginning and have much to learn.

Master Galen, can you tell me how to eat an elephant?” Grandpa asked.

It’s impossible to eat an elephant, Sir,” Galen answered.

“Do you agree with young Galen’s answer, Master Galf?” asked Grandpa.

“An elephant is huge and much too big to be eaten,” Galf responded in agreement.

Stroking his beard, Grandpa continued.  “Yet, in the jungle, a lion can eat a whole elephant.  How do you suppose that is?” he asked of the boys.

Off to Grandpa’s left side, Rolf let loose a chuckle.  He remembered this story from his youth and he knew exactly where Grandpa Ansel was leading the boys, who all sat shaking their heads.

“I tell you boys, it is not impossible to eat an elephant, no matter how huge it is.  Would you like me to tell you how?”  The boys changed from head shaking to interested nodding.  “An elephant is eaten one bite at a time!” Grandpa exclaimed.

“But that would take forever,” answered Galf.

“A long time, perhaps, but not forever,” stated Grandpa.   “Much like the field work, it seems a job that cannot be done, at the beginning.  Over time, doing the work, one spade full at a time, or one bite at a time, the work gets done.  The key to finishing, young men, is to begin.  The job will be done just as soon as you do it.  Tomorrow, when you return to the field, focus on all that has already been dug, instead of how much remains to be dug.  If you do this daily, eating your ‘elephant,’ one bite at a time, you will find the field is fully dug.  In youth you see impossibility.  Age and experience teach you to look for the possibilities.  Perspective, how you look at a thing, changes your attitude and if you learn to look for the possibility in a situation, you can accomplish most anything if you apply yourselves.  Tomorrow the field will look different if you choose to see it differently.”