The little girl came running down the steps of the museum with tears cascading down her cheeks and her hair streaming behind her. She saw the stone lion, perched high above on its weathered stone base and flopped down beside it. Head buried in her hands, she let herself sob. No one came down the stairs after her.

“Why are you crying, little cub?” a voice rumbled above her like stone rubbing against stone.

The little girl rubbed her eyes and stared up at the stone lion. His chin was resting on his paws as he looked down at her. He hadn’t been in that position before, had he?

“Why are you crying?” the lion’s mouth moved and stone dust rained down on her head.

“The other students were picking on me, again….sir.” If a lion, even a stone one, talked to you, it was best to answer the question politely.

A low growl shook the base of the statue and the little girl scooted away until she felt the branches of a bush digging into her back. “Cubs can be cruel, but you must not listen to them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they are stupid, little one, and scared of what you may become.”

“Really?” She rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her jacket and didn’t notice she’d stopped crying.

The lion nodded his head. “Anyone can see you will become a lioness, little one, and that scares some.”

The girl smiled and whispered to herself, “A lioness.”

The lion smiled down at her. “Now go back before they find you missing, little one.”

She scrambled to her feet and brushed the leaves from her pants. “Thank you.” As she turned she heard a rumble like the crunch of gravel. When she spun around, the lion was back to his original position as if he’d never moved. She squared her shoulders and walked back into the museum. The sun came out behind the cloud and if anyone observant had been watching the little girl as she climbed the steps, they might have seen what looked like a shadow of a lioness walking beside her. But, they’d probably convince themselves that their eyes were playing tricks because of the bright sunlight.