Simon, the Friend of Snakes

Simon, the Friend of Snakes

Once, at the foot of Mount Ararat, there lived a young shepherd named Simon. He grazed his flock on the wide slopes, knew every path between the rocks, and could tell from a single breath of wind whether rain would come before evening. Simon was not afraid of snakes. He knew that if people did not bother them or corner them, snakes did not go looking for quarrels. When he saw one on the path, he simply led his sheep another way and said, “Go on with your road, neighbor. We will go on with ours.” One hot day Simon heard cries behind a hill. He ran toward them and found a strange scene. A group of travelers stood stopped on a narrow road while several robbers blocked their way. They shouted, threw stones, and would not let anyone pass. Among the travelers was a young woman with children. Simon did not know who they were or where they came from, but he could see that they needed help. He stood between them and the robbers, planted his shepherd’s staff firmly on the ground, and said, “The road is wide. There is room for everyone. Step aside and let these people pass.” The robbers laughed. But Simon did not move. He called loudly to shepherds on a nearby slope, and he stood with such calm certainty that the robbers realized there would be no easy prize. After more shouting, they finally went away. The travelers thanked Simon and continued their journey. The young woman looked into his eyes for a long moment, as though she wished to remember the face of the one who had helped her. Several weeks later Simon set off for Aleppo on an errand. One noon he stopped to rest beside a spring. Suddenly the earth seemed to tremble beneath his feet, the air rang around him, and Simon closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stood in a great cave lit with golden light. Strange patterns curled across the stone walls, and everywhere snakes lay or moved: large and small, dark and silver, striped, golden, and green. Simon stood very still. Before him raised the head of a huge old snake wearing a shining crown. “Do not be afraid, Simon,” he said in a human voice. “I am the King of Snakes. You helped my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren when they were in danger. I brought you here to thank you.” Simon bowed. “I did not know who they were,” he said. “I only saw that they needed help.” “That is why your action has such value,” said the king. He ordered gold and precious stones brought before Simon, then added, “You may ask for one more gift. Only one. Think carefully.” Simon considered. More riches than he had ever imagined lay before him. What else could he ask for? Then he remembered how often he had watched birds in the sky, dogs by the fire, horses, sheep, and even small ants, wondering what they said to one another. “I would like to understand the speech of animals, birds, and all living creatures,” he said. The King of Snakes looked at him closely. “It is a great gift, and it has a condition. You will be able to hear and understand them, but you must not repeat to people what you hear through this gift. Promise to guard other creatures’ secrets.” “I promise,” said Simon. The king touched Simon’s forehead with the tip of his tail. At once the cave vanished. Simon was sitting beside the spring again. His bag stood beside him, and inside lay the gold given by the King of Snakes. When he returned home, Simon knew at once that the gift was real. As he entered the yard, the dog by the gate stretched lazily and said to another dog, “At last the master has returned. I was beginning to think I would have to guard the chickens from that red fox alone.” Simon nearly dropped his bag in surprise. Sparrows argued over a bread crumb on the roof. Hens discussed the coolest place to hide from the heat. An old donkey complained that the young horse was far too proud of his new bridle. Simon wanted to laugh with delight. He showed his wife the gold. “This is a reward for a kindness I did on the road,” he told her. “We need not worry about winter now.” His wife was glad, but before long she began to notice strange things. Sometimes Simon smiled when no one had said anything amusing. Sometimes he moved a bag of grain just before rain began in the night. Sometimes he let the chickens out early, before the neighbor’s boy appeared in the yard with a handful of millet. “How do you know all these things?” she asked. “I simply guess in time,” Simon replied. But the more she watched him, the more she wanted to know the truth. One evening Simon laughed when he heard the rooster solemnly explaining to the chicks that the sun rose every morning only because he crowed at exactly the right moment. “What is so funny?” his wife asked. “Nothing important.” “No, tell me. You are keeping something from me.” “I cannot explain it.” “Why not? Do you not trust me?” Simon loved his wife and did not want her to feel a wall growing between them. Under her insistent questions, he said carelessly, “All right. Tomorrow I will tell you everything.” But that night he could not sleep. In the yard, the dog said quietly to the rooster, “This is bad. Our master has promised to reveal what he has no right to reveal. He thinks it will prove his love.” The rooster was silent for a moment. Then he replied, “People sometimes think trust means knowing absolutely everything. But do we love the sun less because we do not know where it goes at night?” The dog sighed. “But he has already promised.” “A rushed promise should not push us into a larger mistake,” said the rooster. “We must have the courage to say, ‘I promised something I had no right to promise.’” Simon heard these words and sat awake in the dark for a long time. In the morning he called his wife. “I need to tell you something important,” he began. “Yesterday I promised to reveal a secret. That was a wrong promise, and I cannot keep it.” His wife frowned. “So you do not trust me?” “On the contrary. I trust you enough to tell you the truth about what I cannot say. I received the gold honestly, as thanks for help. I have done nothing wrong. But I gave my word before, and that word does not belong to me alone. If I break it, the cost will be too great.” She was quiet. Simon continued, “You have a right to ask questions. And I have a right to keep a boundary where another’s secret or a promise is involved. Love should not demand a dangerous proof.” For a while she said nothing. Then she spoke softly. “I wanted to know everything so much that I stopped listening to you. Forgive me. I will not force you to say what you cannot.” “And forgive me,” Simon said. “I should have told you that calmly at once, instead of making a promise I could not keep.” They embraced. At that very moment the rooster’s solemn voice rang out from the roof: “Cock-a-doodle-doo! At last the people thought of speaking plainly!” Simon could not help smiling. His wife looked at him, smiled too, and said, “I will not even ask what that was about.” From then on Simon guarded his unusual gift. He did not use it to overhear others out of curiosity. When his knowledge could help someone avoid trouble, he acted carefully. When he heard a small private secret, he left it where it belonged. The animals soon understood that they could speak near this man, because he knew not only how to listen, but how to keep what he had heard. And that is why, people say, the snakes considered Simon their friend for many years.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨