I lay fiercely on a block of cement, guarding the west, in mid roar. My brothers are near, acting as sentries to the remaining directions. We are symbols of pride and victory. We are the emblem of Great Britain. Two large water holes are on either side of me, they are different. Big disks stand in the middle of a pool of small tides, shooting water proudly into the sky while humans reside there, not animals.
A massive audience was held back by a wide ribbon. Wide smiles crossed the people’s faces. A man, with a gather of men standing behind him, took a step toward the ribbon with scissors too big for his hands. He raised his fist in the air. Cheering echoed in my ears. The man opened his hands and the crowed silenced with remarkable quickness. “My people,” shouted the man, “we are all gathered to remember our Victory!” The man must have been the leader of this pride, and what a large pride it was. Humans were jumping for his attention as the man gazed at all that was assembled. The man turned slightly and points at the tower my brothers and I protected. I have never seen the tower directly but I have seen its shadow, it was large but easy to care for. “Lord Nelson, a brave soul, is the center of this grand design, for he was the man who defeated the Spanish and French Navies. He showed the world that Britain will not roll over and show them our necks.” Clapping and stomping became the equivalent to a lion’s roar. The man cut the ribbon and a large amount of people ran toward the square. The man hadn’t spoken of my brothers and I, and I begun to wonder why we were built…were we just the guardians of Lord Nelson? When I was young I searched for my purpose and it was when a petite lady came to stand in front of me, with a line of human cubs beside her, did I find my importance.
The lady looked up admiringly at me then down back at the human cubs. “What are we looking at Johnson?” “A lion Miss.” The boy shaded his eyes from the sun and looked up. He didn’t seem afraid. The lady hmpfed then said, “Children, it’s not just any lion this lion is one of the four guardians of London.” The children looked up confused. The Lady shook her head and smiled. “Lord Nelson, the man on the tower, won a great war. These lions stand for our victory and for our strength. We, of Great Britain, are dominant. We rule all and will not be troubled by other countries or colonies. This Lion helps warn off enemies. He helps guard all the people in London. Including all of you.” I realized then that I was not to be fearful to the humans near me but their support and strength. The children had moved on but the petite lady stayed a few moments behind. “It’s an honor to meet you,” She began, but the rest of her words were hidden from me as a child pulled her away to my brother.
It was an unusual night. Humans crowded my home site. Rhythmical sounds played while the humans danced and laughed. New decorations had been put up in a hurry and now people stumbled and tore them off. The humans made little sense to me. Bright lights evaded my eyes and the sounds crowed my ears but the humans seemed to be safe and happy. I was content. A young man yelled in a black ball and he was heard all over my home site. “Ten, nine,” I didn’t understand why the man was counting backwards but people joined him nonetheless. “Five, four,” the human shouted to the sky. “One!” Cheers, whistling, and clapping followed the number. What an important number it must be. “Happy New Year,” the humans kept repeating. I decided they must be celebrating my brother and I. They were happy we were still strong enough to scare away the enemies.
Rain splatters down my great mane as humans climb atop my brothers and I like cubs. Light flashes repeatedly from small hand held machines as the cub like people smile beneath my great jaws. My meaning hidden to this time of day but I still keep strong. Even under the pressure of these adolescent creatures and irregular weather, I do not disintegrate because I am a lion of noble standards. An almost grown human girl struggles to climb my slab of domain. She slips and falls and tries again, determined like a lion for victory. A boy jumps ahead of her and reaches down to help her. She takes his hand and the boy lifts her to my home. “Thank you,” she mutters. They clutch my large daunting teeth and smile down at the flash maker with gigantic grins outmatching my own. They see me as entertainment but I am no such thing. My brothers and I are the symbol of pride and victory. We are the emblem of Great Britain.