Ride an Elephant

At the age of about 9 I walked into my first circus. There were colors and sounds and excitement all over and kids running along side smiling parents.
I was travelling with my friend and her mom. They had invited me along with them which I normally wouldn't have gone with my parents.
When we entered the trasformed local arena that then appeared as that of a circus ring show area I grew with excitment and talked away with my friend about all we were seeing. It was the preview time before hand and you could visit the clowns or ride the elephant.
Over the speaker my name was called and I almost wasn't sure it was me. I had won a door prize. A sparkly baton that I held high and swirled around. A prize I could not have bought.
Before the show started my friend and her mom went on the elephant. I remember wanting so much to go on too but it was $5. I had got in with a free ticket from school and won a baton but all these things were given to me and I could not have got them on my own. I was a poor kid. We just didn't have money and my mom wasn't about to give us money to go to the circus with.
I think inside I always wanted to go on that elephant ride. Like some long lost kid dream that you stick away somewhere.

I'm 31 now. And I paid $5 at African Lions Safari so that me and my oldest boy could enjoy an elephant ride. There was something so important on the inside of me to take that ride. To pay that $5 dollars and ride that tiny track and get my photo taken.
Somewhere on the inside I remembered what it was like to not have that $5 and I've never appreciated such a child's ride so much that I could ever remember.