The day Balanandaswami felt grace

Balanandaswami trotted back in the direction of the mansion.
He felt happy, praps for the first time in a long time. It was quite unbelievable, how things had suddenly torned out.

He had spent all his life killing little animals like, well he didn't want to think of it now, and eating them.
One cousin of his had lived happily on fruit and berries and bread, but he had never thought much of such a diet. And here he was today, he had thoroughly enjoyed a meal of iddlis and a shake. And looked forward to more.

He realized that it was never going to possible for him to eat flesh again. What had happened to him? Why was he feeling like the food he had just enjoyed was the food his body really needed, and was made for?

He thought about Jags and Kracks back home, well, in the mansion that belonged to someone else. How they would be drinking and eating s-s-st- his mouth could hardly get around to forming that word. He was filled with revulsion at the thought of them eating what was once alive, and running about, and probably had a name. And certainly had brudders and sisters like he had.

Just like he had lost two siblings, so must someone have lost them.

He felt he had lived all his life under a cloud. A cloud of ignorance, and a cloud of excuses he had made, and lies he had told himself regarding this matter.

He felt sad for Jags and Kracks, he couldn't really get around to despising them for eating flesh and drinking, he realized they were still under that cloud.

For once today his soul felt compassion for other living beings. And that made him feel alive -- for the first time.

What was this, he wondered. He stopped and looked skyward for a moment. Was this what they called grace? If this wasn't grace, then what could be?

So this was grace, he decided.

Just imagine, I have spent so much time with these charlatans, as no less of one myself, telling others about grace, with not an inkling of what it meant, and here today, finally, out of the blue, grace hits me, and i recognize it for what it is.

Who is this, he wondered, whose grace it is?
He thought for a while, looking at a beautiful sunset. Had he ever seen such a sight before -- yes, but really no. Then his mind went back to the cave. While spying on the cubses he had seen photographs of some person on the walls, all over the cave, in fact. Who was that? Was it his grace?

He laughed as he suddenly remembered the binoculars near the cave window, and realized Spotty (naughty chap) had been watching him, spying on them. The flash that he saw often was the binoculars! Spying on the cubs and plotting to kidnap them seemed like another lifetime.
His association with Jags and Kracks seems like a million years ago.

It was hard to put words on feelings, but he suddenly felt a weight taken off his shoulders. Suddenly everything felt alright. Everything was right with the world. The faces of the cubs kept swimming back to him.

Was it the cubses, or was it that man in the photographs, or then again the legendary Arunachala Hill that was working on him, he wondered.

Whoever you are, he spoke in his mind, who is holding my hand today, I thank you a million times, and I feel your love, and I love you.