Once there was a slave named Androcles, who was so badly treated by his master that he resolved to run away from him. He therefore secretly left his master’s house and hid himself in a forest, some miles distant from the city.

After wandering about for some time, he came to a large cave, and overcome by hunger and tiredness, he lay down in it, and soon fell fast asleep.

He was suddenly awakened by the roar of a wild beast; a great lion stood right at the mouth of the cave. There was no way he could escape!

Androcles expected nothing else than to be at once torn to pieces, but to his great surprise, the lion came gently towards him, without showing any signs of anger. It gave forth a low and mournful (悲哀的) sound, as if it were begging for his assistance. As the lion approached him, he noticed that one of its feet was swollen.

He then went up to the lion, took hold of the wounded paw (爪子)，and examined it as a surgeon would examine a patient. He was not long in finding out the cause of the swelling; for he saw in the ball of the foot a very large thorn (刺). The slave pulled out the thorn, and pressed out of the wound a quantity of matter, which gave the lion immediate relief.

Then, the lion began to show his gratitude by every means in his power. He jumped about like a playful spaniel (西班牙猎犬), wagged his great tail, and licked the hands and feet of his physician. From that moment Androcles became his guest; the lion always shared his prey.

The slave continued to live like this for several months. At length, wandering carelessly through the woods, he was seized by a company of soldiers who were sent by the master to search for him.

He was sentenced to be torn by a lion in the public arena (竞技场).

However, the lion didn’t act as most had imagined.

My lucky bamboo

I don’t usually keep houseplants. Anything in pots gets either overwatered or underwatered. But after my diagnosis(诊断) with Covid-19, I was forced to stay at home. Feeling lonely, I loved the idea of having something new and green around.

My friend Mitch, a gardener, gave me what he said was a lucky bamboo plant in a tiny green pot with three pencil-size stalks(茎) tied together. I placed the plant in the living room where I spent much of the day. I smiled when I looked at it over the cup of coffee.

I was used to being the one who provided care, not the one who received it. Covid-19 left me weak, making it hard for me to do everyday tasks. Tending to the plant gave me a sense of achievement at a time when I sometimes felt useless.

Since my diagnosis in March 2020, far too often, it seemed, I had to rely on help from other people. The enormous change left me feeling unsettled. Watering the plant, as small an act as it was, connected me to my old identity and taught me I could still be a caregiver. Plants and people could still depend on me.

Over time, I continued to care for the plant. Soon, it had nearly doubled in height. Both the plant and I were thriving(茂盛). However, mysteriously, it began to show signs of stress. I increased my watering, then decreased it. I nestled coffee grounds(渣) into the soil to enrich it. I fed it commercial plant food. No matter what I did, the leaves kept browning and dropping to the floor. I grew more and more hopeless and uneasy.

I thought harder on how to save my plant.

As Mitch’s instructions worked, my anxiety lessened.

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The streams were long gone back into the earth. If we didn’t see any rain soon we would lose everything. It was on that day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen in my life.

I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. I could only see his back. He wasn’t walking in his usual way. He was obviously walking with a great effort, trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches, thinking that whatever he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that unusual way toward the woods. This activity went on for over an hour: walking cautiously to the woods, then running back to the house. Finally, my curiosity got the best of me. I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey.

He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he carried. I followed him secretly as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns(刺) slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He might have a much greater purpose, I thought. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing sight. Several large deer appeared threatening in front of him. But Billy walked right up to them, at the sight of which I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck(雄鹿) was dangerously close. But the buck didn’t threaten him nor even move as Billy knelt down. And then I saw a baby deer lying on the ground, obviously suffering from thirst and heat, lift its head with great effort to lap (舔)up the water cupped in my beautiful boy’s hands.

When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house.

Instead of scolding him like his father, I decided to help him.