A woman was walking up a path under spreading trees with gigantic trunks and treacherous roots. She was carrying a very small child, which she spoke to now and then sometimes in English but usually in her native tongue.

"It's not that I don't love you, baby, It's just that I can't take care of you anymore. I've kept you as long as I can. You were warm enough last winter weren't you?"

She looked down at her bundle like she was expecting it to reply. "That's right baby, just keep on sleeping, It makes it easier for both of us."

She was silent for a long time. Then when the trail became easier she resumed her monologue.

"I do love you baby. I can't imagine how your parents could leave without you. It is true that I didn't leave a note. But I left their papers, wrapped up against the rain even. I left them to show that I was alive and I had been responsible during the fire. I don't see how they could fail to realize that meant that I would have saved you, too. I just took you home to keep you warm, I wasn't trying to steal you. The police think I was trying and that I started the fire also. I might have started it by accident, but I don't know how."

"It's not that I think that I should get the food. (I did go without sometimes so that you wouldn't be hungry.) It's just that now there's none for either of us and the orphanage won't take you. The Universe must have given you to me for some reason, but It wasn't to starve you I'm sure."

"The Hindus sacrifice to the crocodiles don't they? And what animal is the Holiest? It isn't the crocodile. That, baby, is why I'm taking you to the tigers. If the Universe really wants this for you, It will probably provide a snow tiger, the holiest of all."

"I wish there was a way to contact your parents. I know that they love you. I love you too, that's why I'm doing the only thing I can that makes sense."