There was a baby elephant born into a circus act. Just a little elephant, he was tied to a small post by a rope to keep him out of trouble. He tried and tried to break that rope but it was too strong for his baby elephant strength and the post was buried to deep for his trunk to pull out so he could be free. Soon, he became a middle sized elephant. He could jiggle the post a little bit, but he still could not break the rope to be free. One day the elephant had grown to be so big that just looking up at his eyes would strain any adult's neck muscles. The grown elephant, still tied to the post, could easily have ripped it out of the dirt because it was now the relative size of a toothpick next to his gigantic body. The elephant, however, didn't even try. He stayed tied to the post. One day a fire broke out in the circus and the elephant reared up on his back legs and yelled and yelled. But he didn't try to break the rope. You see, a long long time ago he learned he could not break the rope because it was much stronger than he was. He never understood that he had grown so big and strong. He had learned to be little. Forever.