Kung fu Panda

Ma,

I don’t know where to begin, but I need to tell you everything. Do you remember when they dragged me away from you? How I cried, how they disregarded your feelings? I remember the warmth of your body and the softness of your breath, the safety I felt by your side. That day, they dragged me away, and I could hear your desperate calls fading into the distance. I was so scared and confused.

They took me to a new place, a big farm where I was surrounded by other animals I didn't know. I was lonely and lost, and I missed you every moment. But then, something changed. The man who owned the farm, he was kind to me. He gave me good food and a soft place to sleep. He would talk to me gently, and slowly, I started to feel a little less afraid.

I grew strong and healthy under his care. My coat turned a shiny black, and I became proud of the way I looked. People who visited the farm would admire me and say how majestic I was. I started to think of the farm as my new home. I even started to feel affection for the man who took care of me. He would pat my head and say I was his best bull. He named me Kung Fu Panda, because of my majestic body and black color. I liked the name; it made me feel special, even though deep inside, I never stopped missing you.

But then, Mom, everything changed again. One day, he led me into a big trailer and took me to a festival. There were so many people and loud noises. I was paraded around, and everyone seemed so impressed by me. I didn't understand why at first, but then it became clear. My owner, the man I had grown to trust, sold me to some strangers. They took me away, and I watched him walk away without looking back. My heart broke all over again.

Now, I’m standing outside a house in a place I don’t recognize. The people here seem kind; they come and look at me with awe, just like the people at the farm. They feed me well, and I hear them talking about how beautiful and strong I am. But it’s not the same. This place doesn’t feel like home, and these people don’t feel like family.

I stand here and think of you, Mom. I wonder if you remember me. I wonder if you miss me as much as I miss you. Sometimes, I can’t help but let out a mournful bellow, hoping that somehow, you’ll hear me and know that I’m thinking of you. I want to run back to the farm, to the man I trusted, even though he let me down. More than that, I want to run back to you, to feel your warmth and love again.

Mom, I've come to understand that I've been bought as a sacrificial animal. The people here have been talking about it, about how my sacrifice will be part of something much greater than anything I could ever imagine. They speak of it with such reverence, and I can see the respect in their eyes when they look at me. I try to be brave, knowing that my life is contributing to something significant. But the truth is, I’m still that scared little calf inside, longing for the comfort of my mother's embrace.

I hear them talking about the festival. They say that my sacrifice is a noble and revered act. To Him we belong and to Him we should return. I have come to a realization about my purpose in life. To spend my life for the greater good and to sacrifice it for the greater good. I try to find solace in their words, in the pride they seem to have in me. But Mom, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I try to be strong, to muster the courage that you always said I had, but my heart feels heavy with fear and sadness.

Mom, I try to find meaning in all of this. I tell myself that my sacrifice is important, that it will bring joy and prosperity to these people. I want to believe that my life has purpose beyond the farm, beyond the moments of affection and care that I shared with the man who raised me. But it’s hard, so hard, to accept this fate. The fear of the unknown, of what’s to come, weighs heavily on me.

I hope that wherever you are, you are safe and happy. I hope you know that I love you and that I will always carry you in my heart. Maybe one day, we’ll find each other again. Until then, I’ll keep thinking of you, dreaming of a place where I can finally belong. I’ll try to face my fate with the dignity and courage that you would want for me. Knowing that my sacrifice is meaningful gives me a small measure of peace. I hope you can feel proud of me. Ma, can you hear me?

_{This work is out of pure imagination and thoughts that occurred to me when I visited Kung fu Panda.}