Once upon a time there were three little ants. The ants had an unusual home. They lived atop an elephant. 

Long ago the ants’ mother had reasoned that an elephant would be a wise place to lay eggs to keep them from danger. 

“No predators shall ever find my eggs on an elephant!” their mother thought. Their mother was also insane. 

And so it was, the ants grew up on the elephant. The little ants wandered hither and yonder, all over the mammoth body. They found scraps of food within the great animal’s hairs. They drank from droplets pooled on the beast’s immense back. When it was cold, they burrowed in the warm folds of the elephant’s wrinkles. 

One day, a ladybug hitched a ride on the elephant. The traveler was impressed with the ease of the ants’ lives compared to the tiresome lives of regular ants. 

The ladybug asked, “What is this marvelous creature you live upon?”

“Creature?” said the little ants. “What doth thou mean?” For ants always spoke in Middle English.  

“Why,” the ladybug said, “this host whom thouest inhabit, who feeds thou, who keeps thou safe from spiders and birds who would devour thee?” 

The ants looked at themselves confusedly. They knew nothing of any such creature. 

And so it was, the ants resolved to discover the host upon which they resided. They searched the entire behemoth body for answers. 

Later, they reunited on the elephant’s ear. They conversed freely, unaware that the elephant could hear their voices.  

“The thing we live upon is a rock,” reasoned the first ant. “For it is strong and mighty. Alack, I cannot dig through its skin for it is impenetrable.” 

“Nay,” said the second. “This is no rock. We live within a forest. For I wandered the multitude of hairs and whiskers upon the crown of our host. The hairs must be trees.” 

“Both art wrong,” said the third. “‘Tis neither rock nor woodland, but a cloud we live upon. See how we float through the air, without grazing the earth below?” 

The ants instantly grew angry with one another. They fell into a quarrel so bitter they began wounding one another. 

The elephant overheard his little dependents fighting and it troubled him, for he loved his small vagabonds. Each day, he watched them grow. The ants were as his children. 

The elephant spoke in a thundering voice—pachyderm voices are very loud to ant ears. 

“You are each wrong about me,” said the elephant. “I am not at all what you think.” 

“Then what are you?” cried the ants. 

“I am the one who feeds you when you’re hungry. I spray water into the air that it might pool upon my neck, so thou may drink. I give warmth when thou art cold. 

“I find shade trees to shield thou from the harsh sun. I am the ground upon which thou stand, the ears that listen to you weep, the one who overhears your sincerest prayers. I am your provider. The one who loves you.”

“How can it be?” said the ants. “For we can’t see you!”  

“You can neither see me entirely, nor understand me fully, for you are too small, and I am too big.”

Dear 10-year-old Shelby, who wrote me a heartfelt letter this week, asking me to answer a very difficult, but important question…

I hope I haven’t confused thou.