The lion was asleep in the shade when the mouse ran across his paw. The lion woke, caught the mouse without effort, and held him up to examine him. He was a very small mouse, and he was trembling considerably.
“Please,” said the mouse. “Let me go. I am hardly worth the trouble of eating. And one day, though I know it sounds unlikely, I may be able to help you.”
The lion looked at the mouse for a long moment. Then he laughed, because the idea of so small a creature helping so large a one struck him as genuinely funny, and he was in a good enough mood to find it funny rather than insulting. He set the mouse down and watched him disappear into the grass.
Some weeks later the lion was caught in a hunter’s net, a great rope trap that held him fast to the ground no matter how he pulled and roared. He lay exhausted as the afternoon wore on, and the shadows lengthened, and nobody came.
Then he heard a small sound beside his ear. The mouse was there, quiet and businesslike, and he began to chew. He chewed through one rope, then another, working steadily through the net until the lion could pull himself free.
The lion stood and looked down at the mouse and said nothing for a moment.
“Well,” he said finally.
“Yes,” said the mouse.
No act of kindness is wasted, however small the hand that offers it.