I love this story…loyalty betrayed. A lack of understanding. Piercing sorrow. A nun told me the tale. Be the hawk.

The King and His Hawk

Long ago, a king went hunting in the mountains with his favorite hawk perched on his wrist. The day grew hot, and after hours of riding, the king became desperately thirsty. He searched for water and finally found a tiny trickle dripping from a rock face.

The king took out his silver cup and held it under the drip. Drop by drop, the precious water slowly filled his cup. Just as he raised it to his parched lips, his hawk suddenly swooped down and knocked the cup from his hands, spilling the water.

“What are you doing?” the king scolded, but he patiently began collecting water again. Once more, as the cup neared his lips, the hawk struck it away. This happened a third time, and the king’s patience turned to fury.

When the hawk knocked the cup away a fourth time, the king drew his sword in rage. As the bird dove down, the king struck with his blade, and the faithful hawk fell dead at his feet.

Breathing heavily, the king decided to climb to the water’s source to drink directly. At the top of the rocks, he discovered a pool of water—with a massive dead serpent lying in it, its poison contaminating the entire spring.

The king’s heart broke as he realized the truth. His loyal hawk had been trying to save his life, knocking away the poisoned water each time. In his anger and haste, he had killed his most faithful friend—the one who died trying to protect him.

The king learned that day that anger clouds judgment, and that patience might have revealed what fury concealed.

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