Hanuman and the Sun

When Hanuman was small, he woke up hungry almost every morning. On this morning he was hungrier than usual. He rubbed his round tummy and looked out through the leaves for something sweet to eat.

Then he saw it. Low in the sky, round and golden and glowing, sat the most enormous mango anyone had ever seen. "Look at the size of it," Hanuman whispered. He did not know it was Surya, the sun.

So he jumped. Hanuman leapt off the hilltop and up past the treetops, past the birds, past the clouds, with his tail streaming behind him like a flag. Up and up he went, reaching with both hands for his breakfast.

Surya saw a small boy flying toward him with his mouth open, and he did not become angry. He only reached out with a warm hand of light and held Hanuman gently still, the way you catch a moth without hurting its wings. "Little one," said the sun, "I am not a mango."

Hanuman looked at the great golden face and felt very small. "I am sorry," he said. "I was only hungry." Surya smiled. "Hunger is not a bad thing," he said. "But you leapt before you looked. You are strong enough to reach the sky, and that is exactly why you must learn to ask first."

"Then teach me," said Hanuman. And that is how the strongest child in the world came to sit still every morning and learn his letters from the sun. He grew up to cross oceans and carry mountains — but he always said the hardest thing he ever did was sit still and listen.