Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed, one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people.

Keillor contrasts an age marked by outsized self-importance (“elephantine vanity”) and acquisitiveness (“greed”) with the quieter, persistent presence of decency. The “campfires of gentle people” suggests small circles of warmth, fellowship, and moral light—ordinary individuals whose kindness is not loud or institutional but steady and visible if one chooses to look. The line implies that cynicism is a choice: even when public life feels dominated by ego and appetite, humane communities endure nearby. It also carries a pastoral, storyteller’s sensibility—hope located not in grand reforms but in local, everyday acts of gentleness that keep culture livable.