The child was without parents, living in the wilderness, and always moving and on the run. The last thing anyone ever said to the kid, "If someone catches you, if you ever talk to someone again, they'll try to make you into what they want. Run from everyone who gets to close to you, child. Be as clear as the daylight sky when it is above you, and as mysterious as the night sky when it is above you, and call no roof your sky."
The appearance of the child was always changing, their location always changing, but they only had so many popular names. The last person to speak to them must've been some primordial aspect of the universe, or god, or whatever exists that made the light hide and separate. Just as the tricks of the imagination give humanity an audience at the edges of our minds, like things lurking in the dark, so to does the secret light which dispels fear. The child's name is light, the child's name is Samadhi. No one can make the light into what they want, because it is forever beyond the capacity of their desire, and forever beyond what fulfillment they believe can exist.