Nola

Nola was the last American Northern White Rhino, one of three now left on the planet. Nola was rescued from her African savanna as a child by the good, kind folks at San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Poaching has decimated Nola's species due to the fallacy that rhino horns are thought to possess magical medicinal powers. They do not. Nevertheless...rhino horns are big business. Extinction is an ugly word. Greed is an uglier word. What to do? Understand what happened to Nola and her kind. Learn the lessons that Nola teaches us. And then, tell our children Nola's story using gentle, evocative language that invites compassion, inspiration and awareness. Why did the world love Nola? Was it her kind, loving eyes? Her unique sense of humor? The way she trotted up to her visitors st Safari Park, happily waving her head around as if to say, Hello...so glad you came! Perhaps it was her ancient age that had us in love with her, a matriarch with the endearing lined skin of a grandmother. Or maybe, it was her courage. Maybe this was why world leaders paused to mark her death on November 22, 2015. Why Nola's name made world headlines. Newspapers. Television. Internet. Nola, Nola, Nola. The very last of her kind. With only three relatives left alive in Kenya. Maybe it was Nola's courage to be the last that had us loving her, weeping at her loss. Courage to be the last with grace, humility, and, forgiveness. Extinction is forever. Nola knew this. She forgave us, I think. She only asks that we honor her story. It was a hot summer afternoon in August 2013, even for San Diego, yet my daughter and I barely felt the heat. We stood in our safari truck, gripping binoculars. Where was she? We had been traveling along the savanna for an hour now. Suddenly we heard heavy footsteps and a silhouette appeared on the horizon. Grey, rounded, enormous. There stood Nola! World famous northern white rhino, the very last of her kind here in America, one of four left on the planet, her species almost extinct. "Nola!" my eleven year old cried. At hearing her name, Nola sped toward our truck. Hearts thumping, cameras replaced binoculars. I leaned over the edge of the truck and looked into her eyes. How can I explain this moment? Deep-set, brown eyes that did not inch from mine. At all. I held my gaze and so did she. 'Are you afraid,' I whispered. 'No, I am not,' she seemed to say back to me, her ears uttering a little, her eyes deepening their stare. As our truck pulled away I said to my child, "I'm going to write Nola's story, Maddie." And so I have. With love, Stephanie Lisa Tara Hey Little Rhino They want your horn! It sure sounds silly… (Grassland friends warn) Huh? My Horn? It's mine-not yours? We've got our own stuff Of course? Of course! Nola's story is an important one; extinction is forever. Told in lyrical verse that is careful to inspire in a gentle Suessian way, we come away with the lesson, learned. Breathtaking watercolor paintings are a feast of color and light, illuming all 50 pages. Nola leaves us with a bit of universal advice: What To Do? Love what you've got! (And not what you don't) Matters a lot! You will always be loved little rhino, it's true Now and forever…I promise you!