The Tiger and the Persimmon

In the mountains of ancient Korea, there lived a magnificent tiger who was the undisputed king of the forest. This was no ordinary tiger - he was enormous, with muscles like steel cables beneath his brilliant orange and black striped coat, and eyes that glowed like golden fire in the darkness. His roar could shake the very mountains, and his presence struck fear into the hearts of all the forest creatures.

The tiger was immensely proud of his reputation as the most feared predator in all the land. Bears would flee when they caught his scent, wild boars would hide in their dens at the sound of his approach, and even the boldest hunters would avoid the mountain paths where he was known to roam. In his mind, there was no creature on earth that could match his strength and ferocity.

“I am the true king of all beasts!” the tiger would roar triumphantly as he prowled through his territory. “No living thing dares to challenge my supremacy! I fear nothing and no one!”

This tiger’s confidence was so absolute that he had grown somewhat careless in his hunting. He would approach his prey boldly and openly, knowing that his mere appearance would paralyze them with terror. He never bothered with stealth or cunning - his reputation alone was weapon enough.

One cold winter evening, as snow began to fall heavily on the mountain slopes, the tiger was prowling near a small village in search of food. The harsh weather had driven most animals into hiding, and he had spent the entire day without catching a single meal. His stomach growled loudly with hunger, and his mood grew increasingly irritable.

As he approached the outskirts of the village, the tiger caught the scent of something delicious - warm meat cooking over a fire. Following his nose, he crept closer to the human settlement, his mouth watering at the prospect of an easy meal.

The scent led him to a small thatched-roof house where a farm family lived. Through a crack in the wooden wall, the tiger could see inside to a cozy room warmed by a small fire. A mother was sitting near the hearth, gently rocking her baby who was crying loudly despite her efforts to comfort him.

“Perfect,” thought the tiger, licking his lips. “A helpless human family, completely unaware of my presence. This will be the easiest hunt of my life.”

He crouched low, preparing to burst through the flimsy wall and seize his prey. But just as he was about to spring, the baby’s crying grew even louder and more persistent. The mother, clearly exhausted from trying to calm her child, began speaking in a slightly frustrated voice.

“Oh, my little one,” she said, bouncing the baby gently, “why won’t you stop crying? Are you hungry? Are you cold? Please, tell mama what’s wrong.”

But the baby only cried harder, his wails echoing through the small house. The mother tried singing lullabies, offering milk, and rocking him more vigorously, but nothing seemed to work.

The tiger, still crouched outside the wall, found himself somewhat amused by the situation. Here was this tiny human creature, completely helpless and defenseless, yet it was making more noise than a pack of wolves. It struck him as almost comical that something so small could create such a disturbance.

As the baby’s crying continued, the mother’s patience began to wear thin. In her desperation, she tried various methods to frighten her child into silence - a common practice among Korean mothers of that era when dealing with persistently crying babies.

“If you don’t stop crying,” the mother said in a mock-stern voice, “the big bad wolf will come and get you!”

The tiger perked up his ears with interest. He knew about wolves, of course - they were his natural competitors for prey, though nowhere near as powerful as he was. He was curious to see if this threat would quiet the human child.

But the baby seemed completely unimpressed by the mention of wolves and continued crying just as loudly as before.

“Hmm,” thought the tiger, “this human cub is braver than I expected. It shows no fear of wolves.”

The mother tried again, this time mentioning a different threat. “Be quiet, little one, or the fierce bear will come down from the mountain!”

Again, the baby showed no reaction except to cry even louder. The tiger was beginning to be impressed despite himself. This tiny creature seemed to fear neither wolves nor bears - the two animals that most humans considered the most dangerous threats in the forest.

Growing more desperate, the mother raised her voice slightly. “Stop crying this instant, or the terrible tiger will hear you and come to eat you up!”

The tiger’s chest swelled with pride at being mentioned. “Now we’ll see,” he thought smugly. “Surely the mention of my fearsome reputation will terrify this little one into silence.”

But to his complete amazement, the baby not only continued crying but seemed to cry even more vigorously than before. The tiger was stunned. Here was a creature so small it could fit in his paw, yet it showed absolutely no fear at the mention of his name - the name that struck terror into the hearts of all other living things.

“This is extraordinary,” the tiger mused, his confidence shaken for the first time in his life. “What kind of supernatural creature could this be, that it fears neither wolf, nor bear, nor tiger?”

The mother, now at her wit’s end, tried one final threat. In her desperation, she reached for the first thing that came to mind - a persimmon that was hanging from a string near the ceiling, drying for winter storage.

“All right then,” she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine authority, “if you don’t stop crying immediately, I’ll give you to the persimmon!”

The effect was instantaneous and miraculous. The moment the mother mentioned the persimmon, the baby suddenly stopped crying and became perfectly quiet. The silence that followed was so complete that even the tiger could hear it clearly through the wall.

The tiger’s eyes widened in absolute terror. Here was irrefutable proof of something that shattered his entire understanding of the world. This fearless creature that had shown no concern for wolves, bears, or tigers had been instantly silenced by the mere mention of a persimmon.

“A persimmon!” the tiger whispered to himself in horror. “What manner of terrifying beast could this ‘persimmon’ be? It must be something so powerful, so absolutely deadly, that even the bravest creatures tremble at its name!”

His mind raced with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. He imagined the persimmon as some sort of supernatural monster - perhaps a demon with magical powers, or a creature so fierce that it made tigers look like harmless kittens by comparison.

“I’ve never heard of this ‘persimmon,’” the tiger thought frantically, “but clearly it’s the most dangerous predator in existence. That human cub, who showed no fear of me, was instantly terrified into silence by its very name. I must escape from this place immediately before this terrible persimmon arrives!”

Without wasting another moment, the tiger turned and began running away from the village as fast as his powerful legs could carry him. He crashed through the forest, leaping over fallen logs and bounding through snow drifts, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and whatever horrible creature this “persimmon” might be.

But the tiger’s ordeal was far from over. As he fled through the dark forest, his panic-clouded mind began playing tricks on him. Every shadow seemed to hide a potential persimmon, every sound in the wind seemed like the approach of this terrible predator he had never seen but now feared above all else.

Unknown to the terrified tiger, his frantic flight through the forest had caught the attention of a clever thief who had been hiding in the trees, waiting for travelers to rob. This particular thief was known throughout the region for his cunning and his ability to steal from anyone, no matter how well-armed or dangerous they might be.

When the thief saw the enormous tiger running through the forest in obvious panic, his first instinct was to hide. But then his professional curiosity got the better of him. What could possibly terrify the most feared predator in the mountains so completely?

Being naturally bold and greedy, the thief decided to follow the tiger and see if he could somehow profit from the situation. He leaped down from his tree and began pursuing the fleeing tiger through the forest, moving silently and staying hidden in the shadows.

The tiger, in his panicked state, became aware that something was following him. When he glanced back and saw a dark figure moving through the trees behind him, his worst fears seemed confirmed.

“It’s the persimmon!” he thought in absolute terror. “The terrible creature has found me and is hunting me down! I must run faster!”

The tiger increased his speed, crashing through the forest with such violence that he left a trail of broken branches and disturbed snow. But no matter how fast he ran, when he looked back, the dark figure was still there, persistently following him.

The thief, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly puzzled by the tiger’s behavior. He had never seen any animal, let alone the king of beasts, flee in such obvious terror. He began to wonder if perhaps the tiger was running from some even more dangerous predator - something the thief himself should be afraid of.

This chase continued for several miles through the mountain forest, with the tiger running in blind panic and the thief following out of curiosity and greed. Neither one understood what was really happening, but both were becoming increasingly convinced that they were involved in something far more dangerous than they had initially realized.

Finally, the tiger reached a steep cliff and found himself trapped. Below him was a drop of several hundred feet into a rocky ravine, while behind him, the mysterious figure he believed to be the dreaded persimmon was still approaching.

Faced with this terrible choice, the tiger made a desperate decision. Rather than face the unknown horrors of the persimmon, he would risk the cliff. With a mighty leap, he launched himself over the edge, hoping to land safely in the trees below rather than fall to his death on the rocks.

The thief, arriving at the cliff edge just in time to see the tiger’s leap, was absolutely astounded. Here was the most powerful predator in the mountains, choosing to risk death rather than face whatever was pursuing him. The thief’s imagination immediately began conjuring up images of some terrible monster that was even more fearsome than a tiger.

“If a tiger would rather jump off a cliff than face what’s chasing it,” the thief reasoned, “then I certainly don’t want to meet it either!”

Without another thought, the thief turned and ran back the way he had come, spreading the story throughout the region of some mysterious and terrible creature that was so frightening it could make tigers leap off cliffs.

The tiger, by some miracle, managed to survive his fall by landing in a large pile of snow that had accumulated at the bottom of the ravine. Though bruised and shaken, he was alive and seemed to have escaped the dreaded persimmon.

But his ordeal had left him permanently changed. From that day forward, the once-proud tiger lived in constant fear of persimmons. He would flee at the mere mention of the word, and if he ever saw the orange fruit hanging from a tree, he would run in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him.

The other animals in the forest were amazed by this transformation. Bears, wolves, and deer who had once trembled at the tiger’s approach now found themselves puzzled by his strange new phobia.

“Great Tiger,” a wise old bear asked him one day, “why do you flee from those round orange fruits? They’re just persimmons - sweet food that humans dry for the winter. They can’t hurt anyone.”

But the tiger would only shake his head in terror. “You don’t understand,” he would whisper. “Persimmons are the most dangerous things in existence. I’ve seen their power with my own eyes. Even the bravest creatures become silent with fear at their very mention.”

The bear and other animals tried to explain that persimmons were harmless fruit, but the tiger’s traumatic experience had convinced him otherwise. He had witnessed what he believed was proof of their terrible power, and no amount of reasoning could change his mind.

Meanwhile, back in the village, the mother never knew that her innocent mention of a persimmon had caused such chaos in the forest. The baby had simply fallen asleep, as babies often do when they finally tire themselves out from crying. She hung the persimmon back on its string and went about her evening chores, completely unaware that she had inadvertently created one of the most persistent legends in Korean folklore.

As word of the tiger’s strange fear spread throughout the land, the story grew and changed with each telling. Some versions claimed that persimmons were actually magical fruits with the power to control fierce beasts. Others suggested that the tiger had been cursed by a persimmon spirit for some past transgression.

But those who knew the truth - the few who had witnessed or heard the actual events - would smile knowingly when they heard these elaborate explanations. They understood that sometimes the most powerful fears are based on the simplest misunderstandings, and that even the mightiest creatures can be brought low by nothing more than their own imagination.

The tale of the tiger and the persimmon became a beloved story throughout Korea, told around fires on winter nights to entertain children and adults alike. It serves as a gentle reminder that fear often comes not from real danger, but from our own misconceptions and assumptions.

Even today, Korean children learn this story and laugh at the image of the mighty tiger fleeing in terror from a harmless piece of fruit. The tale teaches us that we should question our fears and seek to understand the truth behind them, rather than allowing our imagination to create monsters where none exist.

And in the Korean mountains, they say, if you know where to look, you might still spot a tiger running away from persimmon trees - the proud king of beasts forever humbled by a simple misunderstanding on a snowy winter night.