22. My mother in the eyes of a lion

When I was ten years old, I went to visit my maternal uncle who lived in the country. There was a chain of mountains nearby — about two and a half miles away. I was extremely fond of roaming in these mountains.

One afternoon about two o’clock, all my friends were in school, so I decided to go for a walk alone on one of the mountains. I had been to this mountain many times accompanied by my friends and relatives. But we had only wandered through the fringes of the mountain, which were most accessible. This time, being alone, I got more joy from the adventure! I roamed further and further until I was in the thick of the dense forest which covered the mountain.

I was very fond of a certain kind of fruit called jujub. There were many jujub trees in the forest, so I climbed one of them and ate my fill. When I climbed down, there, facing me, only ten feet away, was a mountain lion!

We stood there, face to face, and the lion, far from showing a ferocious look, was all mildness. Furthermore, reflected in the lion’s eyes, I saw the face of my own mother who was in my home village, six miles away.

This went on for several minutes. Seeing my mother in the eyes of the lion, I felt no fear and raised no cry. I was calm and serene. The more I looked into the lion’s eyes, the greater was the affectionate feeling I received from the lion.

Very slowly, after about five minutes, I started to move away, turning my back to the lion and walking slowly and cautiously. After covering a reasonable distance — perhaps a quarter of a mile, I turned back to see if the lion was following me. Then I took to my heels and ran for dear life!

I covered a mile in a short time — crying and shouting for help, “Save me! Save me! I saw a lion!” When I finally came to my aunt’s house, I was trembling and screaming. My aunt felt as though I had died and had come back to life by some miracle. Some of the villagers showed sympathy, some scolded, others mocked. My aunt was holding me as if I had been killed by the lion.

Although it had been decided that I would be staying at my uncle’s home for a few days, quite unexpectedly my mother arrived that day. In the afternoon she had been having a siesta, and had dreamed that I was attacked and killed by a lion! She came to her brother’s home, practically insane with grief, assuming that her son had died.

I was practically bathed in a sea of tears shed by my mother and aunt at seeing me alive and safe.