VALLEY OF THE COBRAS

In the whole monastery of Darna there was no one who was more difficult to live with than young Abdon. In fact, out of the more than sixty monks forming the community of Darna, there were only four monks with whom Abdon had never quarrelled. Moreover, the situation had deteriorated to such a point that only these four would ever volunteer to work with him in the fields or accompany him on errands to the nearby town. And so, despairing of improving his character through ordinary means, his abbot called him one day and spoke to him in great earnest.

"Abdon," he said, "you have noticed that only four of your brothers are in good terms with you, haven't you?" And he mentioned the names of thesee four monks.

"That's true, your Reverence," Abdon admitted. "But all the others are so - "

"Never mind, dear brother," the abbot interrupted. "My point is this. All four of these were exactly like you during their first years in the monastery. Their character was ver - ah - special, and they couldn't get along with their brothers."

"Oh? I didn't know that," Abdon said. "That must have been before my entrance in the order." Being still a young man in his late twenties, Abdon's knowledge of his confreres did not go very far back.

"Well," the abbot continued, "aren't you curious as to what changed them into the fine community men they have become?"

"Yes, your Reverence, I am. What happened to them?"

"I sent them to live for a year with an old friend of mine, the hermit Sabbas. When they returned, they were completely transformed!"

All this was news to Abdon. And naturally he was intrigued both by the abbot's words and by the coincidence that he could get along only with the four former disciples of Sabbas. Apparently this Sabbas could do wonders with difficult personalities like this. Not that he blamed himself for his present problems in community life; on the contrary, he was sincerely convinced that he had just been unlucky in his choice of a monastery and that, given another group of brothers, he would fare much better. Unfortunately, only an angel would be able to live in peace with the kind of people who had entered this particular community - well, only an angel and perhaps the four exceptions singled out by the abbot.. which brought him back to the matter at hand and to Sabbas. Now, since Abdon was not a fool, he was beginning to get the drift of his abbot's purpose in calling him to his cell.

"I suppose, your Reverence," the young friar said with a forced smile, "that you will send me to Sabbas for a year like the others?"

That, of course, was precisely what the abbot had in mind. And so, a few days later Abdon set out to find Sabbas, bearing an explanatory letter from his abbot as to the purpose of his visit.

His journey lasted almost a month and brought him to a region sparsely populated. It was a wild and far-flung area, an ideal place for a hermit like Sabbas, intent on living in solitude with God and nature. Eventually Abdon discovered the hut where the holy man lived. The latter received him most kindly. Upon reading the abbot's letter of introduction, he immediately grasped what was Abdon's problem.

"Very well," he said to the latter with his usual gentleness. "We leave tomorrow at dawn."

Abdon was surprised. He thought he had reached the end of his journey and was already wondering if he would be living witrh Sabbas in the same hut or if he would build his own hut nearby. But perhaps his new master was only thinking of going somewhere on a short piulgrimage?

"Where are you going, Father? Will we be gone for a long time?"

Sabbas smiled at Abdon's impetuous questions. The abbot was quite right: the young fellow was sorely in need of self-discipline.

"Over there," he said, pointing in an easterly direction, "is the Valley of the Cobras. We will go and live there for a while."

Naturally Abdon was alarmed by the name of the place. He wanted to know more, much more about his future location. But the hermit was afraid Abdon would panic at what awaited him and would return to his monastery without undergoing the training he was supposed to receive from him.

"You will see," he said simply. "Everything in good time."

The following morning the two of them set out for the Valley of the Cobras. They arrived there that very evening. It was an even wilder place than Sabbas' hermitage. But there were no cobras in sight. Abdon wondered at this. He had armed himself with a big stick and was preparing to ward off any reptile that might cross his path.

"Where are the cobras?" he asked with his usual impulsiveness.

"Everywhere," Sabbas answered calmly.

Abdon stiffened in dread. "What? You mean to say that at this very moment we are surrounded by vicious snakes?"

"Not vicious," the hermit corrected him gently, "for they too, are God's creatures."

"But they are dangerous! They're poisosnous! Their bite can kill a man within minutes!"

"True, Abdon. However, they become dangerous only if we attack them. And they bite only in self-defense. Don't worry, I've lived here often before and have never been harmed. At any rate, if ever you were accidentally bitten by one of them, I would know how to treat your wound and heal you. But that is not likely to happen if you follow my advice. In fact, you will profit immensely from your stay here if you learn a few basic things about cobras. Then you will be ready to return to your monastery."

Abdon could hardly believe his ears. "You will teach me how to cope with community life by living with cobras?" he asked incredulously.

"Why, yes," the hermit answered blandly. "That is the whole purpose of your coming here, isns't it? We will proceed in four stages," he pursued, as if unaware of Abdon's dismay. "The first one will begin this very evening. And, during this first stage, you must learn a most fundamental lesson about cobras. Let us call it tolerance."

"Tolerance?" Abdon echoed in disbelief.

"Yes, tolerance. In other words, live and let live. Go about your business and let the cobras alone. If you happen to see one on your path, don't go after it with your stick. In fact, never use your stick against it. Let the snake pass by or, better still, make a detour to avoid it and go your way in peace. Allow it to live and it will allow you to live as well. That is the first lesson."

Abdon was impressed by the hermit's words. The old man seemed to know what he was talking about, since he had already survived several stays with the cobras. Besides, what he was saying made a certain sense. Why, if some of the monks back at the monastery had practiced that kind of tolerance towards himself, things would have been much easier all around. By now Abdon was willing to follow Sabbas' advice - at least for a couple of days. But he was curirous about what would come next.

"What about the other lessons?" he asked.

The hermit smiled at his younger companion's incorrigible impatience. "There are three more. But those will come later, depending on your progress. For the time being, let us settle here for the night."

This they did, after they had located nearby the hut Sabbas had used during his previous stays in the area. It was there that they spent their first night in the Valley of the Cobras. Naturally Abdon didn't sleep a wink that night, terrified at the sound of the reptiles crawling in the underbush around the hut. But none of them seemed interested in the newcomers. They were intent on hunting small preys such as frogs and rodents. In fact, they were afraid of humans and kept away from them as much as possible.

This last fact was impressed upon Abdon during the subsequent days, as he began to put into practice his first lesson on tolerance. The hermit had been quite right, after all: the cobras he spotted every now and then never went out of their way to attack him. As long as he kept at a safe distance and announced his coming by slashing the underbrush with his big stick, he was left in peace. And so, after a few weeks he got used to his new surroundings and began to accept with equanimity the idea of a peaceful co-existence with the cobras.

Some three months passed. Then one day Sabbas, who had observed with satisfaction his disciple's progress in tolerance, decided that the latter was ready for his second lesson.

"I can see," he told him one evening, "that you have learned to tolerate the cobras. That is good. You are ready for your next lesson. Now you must learn to respect them."

Abdon was puzzled. "Respect them? How do you respect an animal - and a poisonous animal at that?"

"Respect," the hermit explained, "literally means to `look again', to `take a second look.' It's a kind of patience. To respect something is to take whatever time is necessary to see its goodness. When you see the goodness God placed in the Cobras, you will respect them. It's almost a form of justice, you know. It's like giving them their due." "But what goodness is there in a cobra?" Abdon protested. "Just think about it, my son, and you will see what I mean."

The young man followed his mentor's advice. First, he noticed that the two of them were never bothered by mice and rats, because the reptiles fed on these. In fact, he remembered from his childhood that some farmers would keep snakes in their barns so as to protect their harvest from being eaten away by rodents. He also remembered that the skin of the cobras was soften used to make leather belts, shoes and even gloves. Cobras, in addtion, were sometimes displayed in circuses and carnivals for purposes of entertainment. Some daring sportsmen, he had once heard, even tamed them and kept them as pets. When he shared these memories with his companion, the latter smiled his approval, sensing the subtle evolution taking place in his disciple's attitude towards cobras.

"They are also served in banquets as a choice delicacy," he added one day, "for those who have the stomach for such dishes. But more importantly, the innards of cobras are sometimes used as medicine for stopping excessive bleeding or lessening intractable pain."

"Is that so?" Abdon had asked in sincere amazement. After pondering on all these facts, he was beginning to feel a grudging respect for the cobras. That was for Sabbas an indication that he could go ahead and give Abdon his third lesson.

"You have learned to respect the cobras," he told him one day, "and I congratulate you over your progress. Now you are ready for the next step: to admire them."

The third proved less difficult than Abdon had anticipated, thanks to the hermit's expert guidance. For indeed, now that the young monk understood the intrinsic value of the cobras, he was better disposed to contemplate them at leisure. Here, Sabbas' familiarity with the reptiles and his uncanny ability for bringing them out of their hiding places, greatly facilitated Abdon's task. In company with his mentor he began to seek out the cobras in their favorite haunts and to study them for long hours at a time. At first of course, his spontaneous fear of them still blinded him to their beauty. But gradually he came to appreciate the extraordinary complexity of their motions, the grace of their slender bodies as they raised their heads and swayed rhythmically to some inner music, the incredible variety of their colors, the harmonious lines of their hood. And so, a day came when he himself suggested enthusiastically to the old hermit, "Let's go cobraa-watching, Father." That was the cue Sabbas was waiting for. He knew his disciple was now ready for the fourth and last phase of his training.

"This ultimate phase," he explained, "is the most difficult of all, but the most rewarding as well. Now that you are able, not only to tolerate cobras, but also to respect and admire them, hopefully you will learn to enjoy them."

"You mean - "

"Yes," the old man interrupted with a child-like laugh, "tame them, play with them, delight in them as God's lovely creatures."

This time Abdon thought his mentor was really asking the impossible. Nevertheless, since experience had taught him that the old hermit had proved hitherto utterly reliable, he decided to trust him once again. and so, with a renewed interest, he followed his mentor's instructions and undertook to tame the cobras. Now that the reptiles had gotten used to their presence it was easier to approach them, to tempt them with some juicy frog leg or dead insect, and eventually to reach out in a slow gesture and caress their throat. It seems they particularly appreciated being caressed in this way. Naturally, it took several weeks before Abdon succeeded in taming his first cobra, even though Sabbas was constantly at his side with a word of guidance and encouragement. However, the young monk did succeed at last. And one day he experienced the thrill of holding a favorite cobra playfully curled around his neck and shoulders. His delight was so great that he exploded in laughter.

"Look, Father!" he cried out to the hermit. "this brother of mine has found a playmate!"

That day Sabbas knew that Abdon's training period was over. However, since the young man was genuinely enjoying the companionship of the cobras now, he decided to wait a few more days before saying anything. Besides, he himself had developed a father's affection for his disciple, gratified to observe how patient and gentle the young man had become over the year they had spent together. And how indeed could it have been otherwise? One can ill afford to be temperamental with cobras!

A week later Sabbas spoke to his young companion about the latter's impending return to his monastery.

"But Father," he asked with apprehension, "do you really think I can live at peace with my brothers now?"

The hermit laughed, pleased to note once more how changed Abdon had become from the intractable, arrogant young man he was before.

"My son," he said gently, "if you can live with cobras, you can live with humans as well. Just put into practice with each of your brothers the four lessons you have learned here. First, tolerate, then respect and admire, and finally enjoy. seek in each one the goodness which is in him, placed there by God. Even if, in some cases, you will feel that the goodness in your brother is more a promise than a fact, you have only to be patient. Elicit that goodness from him, call him to affirm it. That is what God does with each one of us with an endless patience. No one can resist forever that kind of patience."

Well, Abdon followed his mentor's advice to the letter. He returned to his monastery. And there he tolerated, he respected, he admired and he enjoyed. And, when he died at a ripe old age, he was not only a holy monk but also a very happy man.

-- jane (janeulrich80@hotmail.com), June 09, 2001

Answers

-- (_@_._), June 10, 2001.

Wow, Jane! What a really valuable lesson! Thanks so much for sharing. :)

-- jackiea (jackiea@hotmail.com), June 11, 2001.