By Fereydoun Kian

Chapter One

My Very Own Persian Lion

Pictures of lions had coverred every corner of grandpa's room. He told me a story about the brave lions of the mountains when he tucked me in my bed. Grandpa knew I loved lions, that's why he promised me that for my birthday he will get me a lion of my very own.

Many nights before my birthday, I could not go to sleep because I was so excited. 

A day before my birthday, I noticed grandpa left home pretty early in the morning and came back very late at night. He was carrying a big box.

For the first time I ever remember, he did not let me go in his room. That night, I couldn't ask him what he had in the box. He didn't like nosey people. So I kept quite.


Every night grandpa told me a story about men who wanted to prove their courage.


There was the Assyrian Hero, Gilgamesh, who was called the "Lion Tamer."  He was called that because he played with lions as if they were kittens.  But he played pretty rough as you can see in this picture.


Then there was Rostam, the Persian Champion who fought the monsters and lions.  I didn't like to put the name of a lion next to monsters. 






Then the Greek hero, Hercules who was so strong, and guess why?  
Yes, because he also fought the lions.






But the story Grandpa told me the night before my birthday, was the story of a lion named Aslan from a book called

"The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe". It was a sad story and I cried at night for Aslan.

  For the first time, I heard the story of a lion who was loved by everyone--except the Ice Queen that is.
 I dreamed of Aslan all  night.



The next morning , I woke up early and without breakfast  ran to Grandpa's room.

And there it was. A baby lion the size of a big cat, sitting on a black pillow on the balcony. Grandpa, held me back:  "Shhh!…You have to be very quite!" 


Was this my very own lion?


I sat by the sliding door near Grandpa. Then I moved to the other side of him and sat closer to the lion. But Grandpa held me down and said: "Let him finish his milk."

 The lion watched me from corner of his eyes, but he was so thirsty that didn't quit drinking his milk. 

Grandpa showed me how to talk to it.  He said: "This is the last lion found in Iran."
 
"The last?!" I said.  "How could it be?  You said Iran is the House of Lions!"

He grind, but it wasn't a smile.  It was a sad grin.  "There could be a few.." He began. "in cages in  Zoos, but the rest of the lions have died or escaped from Iran. That's why they have taken the picture of the lion from their flag." 

I was both sad and excited to have the last, extinct lion in the world, but at the same time I was worried.  I was afraid he get sick.  If the Persian lion is gone forever how could I hope my baby lion will make it.  So I asked: "Grandpa, what is wrong with the Persian lions? why are they extinct?" " Lion hunting for one reason, my dear. " Said Grandpa "then you know the lions have no place to go when people are all over the place, hunting their food, deer, rabbits, mountain goats and other animals."  He grabbed the lion from behind his neck and lifted him up. 

The baby lion looked so cute and helpless in the air.  Grandpa continued. "Lions can not be domesticated, and that's why they are all gone!"   He put a leash around his head and chest. This was the most beautiful leash I had ever seen. purple with brass nails with a buckle shaped like a lion biting on a King Cobra.   

Grand pas said: "You close your lips and blow in it like this. Pphhpher." Then he said. “You have to talk to him in Persian, because he   cannot uderstand any other languages.

So I asked grandpa :" How do you say 'Come here,' in Persian?’” Grandpa lifted him up and put him in his big pocket! That was so funny!

"Bia!"  said Grandpa.   I began to pet him.  

I put my lips together and blow out a bit of air and then said, “ppherph…Bia!”

The lion didn't come out, but he pulled his right paw out of Grandpa's pocket and wanted to touch my hands.

Grandpa sat on his chair by the window.  "You have to learn more.   You have to say nice things!  So the lion knows you are his friend."

All day I learned Persian words. 

  I said to the lion: "Doostet daram! Which means "I love you!"

I went and brought my book bag to put him in there just like Grandpa's pocket.  I think he liked my bookbag because that was purple too. 
I said:  "Ppphpp!… Bia in to!" which means "Come and go inside this backpack!" 

The lion looked at me and purred and puffed or  "Ppphhphed"

"Wow!" Finally he had understood me.  

Grandpa said: " Do you have a name for him? A great name that's as wonderful as this beautiful lion?"



"Of course!"  I thought, but didn't have a name.  I had to think really hard, because this is the last Persian lion.  Can you think of a great name?

End of Chapter One