31 Aug The Worry Zebra
Our summer vacation was coming to an end. As we packed our suitcases in the hotel room in Kenya, I noticed Emma had tears running down her cheeks. I stopped what I was doing and walked toward her.
“What’s bothering you, Emma?” I asked gently, kneeling beside her.
Emma wiped her hands across her eyes and said, “I don’t want to go on the plane. The plane has to go over a huge ocean and it could crash.”
“Flying over the ocean is a scary thought,” I said to her as I wrapped her in a hug. “It’s heavy to carry thoughts like that.”
“…Plus, I have to carry a suitcase AND a backpack that are super heavy,” Emma reminded me.
“Emma,” I said with a smile. “Do you remember the little animals we got at breakfast? The zebra and the elephant?”
Emma nodded, glancing toward the tiny hand-carved wooden animals on the table that the staff had generously given the girls at breakfast as a parting gift.
“Well,” I continued. “I didn’t get a really close look, but I’m pretty sure they gave you an extra special zebra. Do you mind if I look at it to see?”
Emma took the zebra off of the table and placed it into my palm. I examined it closely, nodding as I held it up to my eye, “I thought so—this isn’t just any zebra. What you have here is a worry-eating zebra.”
Emma looked at me, her curiosity piqued.
“This zebra loves to eat worries,” I explained. “All the things that scare you, all of the ‘what ifs,’ this zebra will gobble them up so you don’t have to carry them.”
Emma’s eyes widened with interest.
“But wait,” she said, “That doesn’t make sense. If the zebra eats the worries, then it will become scared.”
“Oh no,” I said, “That’s part of what makes this zebra so special. Its stomach is sealed in a way that keeps worries from bothering it. It has a worry-proof stomach.”
“Try it,” I encouraged, handing the zebra back to Emma. “Tell the zebra your worries and watch what happens.”
Emma held the zebra in her hand and a tiny smile appeared on her face. She started sharing her fears one at a time as the zebra happily ate them all.
“I’m scared it will be so bumpy and dark,” she said.
“Chomp, chomp,” went the zebra.
“I’m scared the plane will crash down into the water,” she added.
“Chomp, chomp,” the zebra reassured.
“I’m scared we will land in the middle of the cold water and no one will rescue us,” Emma admitted.
“Chomp, chomp,” said the zebra once more.
“Look at your zebra now,” I exclaimed, “I think it’s smiling because it’s so full of delicious worries!”
Emma giggled and tucked the worry zebra into her pocket.
Later that day we boarded the plane and flew over that big ocean. Throughout the flight, I saw Emma’s hand repeatedly feel for the zebra in her pocket. She would give a little smile after each check, reassured that her worries were safely housed with her worry-eating friend.