Tag: Buddhiststories

The Legend of Quan Yin, Goddess of Mercy

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The Legend of Quan Yin, Goddess of Mercy

One of the deities most frequently seen on altars in China’s temples is Quan Yin (also spelled Kwan Yin, Kuanyin; in pinyin, Guanyin). In Sanskrit, her name is Padma-pâni, or “Born of the Lotus.” Quan Yin, alone among Buddhist gods, is loved rather than feared and is the model of Chinese beauty. Regarded by the Chinese as the goddess of mercy, she was originally male until the early part of the 12th century and has evolved since that time from her prototype, Avalokiteshvara, “the merciful lord of utter enlightment,” an Indian bodhisattva who chose to remain on earth to bring relief to the suffering rather than enjoy for himself the ecstasies of Nirvana. One of the several stories surrounding Quan Yin is that she was a Buddhist who through great love and sacrifice during life, had earned the right to enter Nirvana after death. However, like Avlokiteshvara, while standing before the gates of Paradise she heard a cry of anguish from the earth below. Turning back to earth, she renounced her reward of bliss eternal but in its place found immortality in the hearts of the suffering. In China she has many names and is also known as “great mercy, great pity; salvation from misery, salvation from woe; self-existent; thousand arms and thousand eyes,” etc. In addition she is often referred to as the Goddess of the Southern Sea — or Indian Archipelago — and has been compared to the Virgin Mary. She is one of the San Ta Shih, or the Three Great Beings, renowned for their power over the animal kingdom or the forces of nature. These three Bodhisattvas or P’u Sa as they are know in China, are namely Manjusri (Skt.) or Wên Shu, Samantabhadra or P’u Hsien, and Avalokitesvara or Quan Yin.

Quan Yin is a shortened form of a name that means One Who Sees and Hears the Cry from the Human World. Her Chinese title signifies, “She who always observes or pays attention to sounds,” i.e., she who hears prayers. Sometimes possessing eleven heads, she is surnamed Sung-Tzu-Niang-Niang, “lady who brings children.” She is goddess of fecundity as well as of mercy. Worshiped especially by women, this goddess comforts the troubled, the sick, the lost, the senile and the unfortunate. Her popularity has grown such through the centuries that she is now also regarded as the protector of seafarers, farmers and travelers. She cares for souls in the underworld, and is invoked during post-burial rituals to free the soul of the deceased from the torments of purgatory. There are temples all over China dedicated to this goddess, and she is worshiped by women in South China more than in the North, on the 19th day of the 2nd, 6th and 9th moons. (For example, it is a prevalent birth custom in Foochow that when a family has a daughter married since the 15th day of the previous year, who has not yet given birth to a male infant, a present of several articles is sent to her by her relatives on a lucky day between the 5th and 14th of the first month. The articles sent are as follows: a paper lantern bearing a picture of the Goddess of Mercy, Quan Yin, with a child in her arms, and the inscription, “May Quan Yin present you with a son”; oysters in an earthenware vessel; rice-cakes; oranges; and garlic.) Worshipers ask for sons, wealth, and protection.

She can bring children (generally sons, but if the mother asks for a daughter she will be beautiful), protect in sorrow, guide seamen and fishermen (thus we see
her “crossing the waves” in many poses), and render harmless the spears of an enemy in battle. Her principal temple on the island of Putuoshan, in the Chusan Archipelago off the Zhejiang coast near Ningbo, is a major pilgrimage site sacred to the Buddhists, the worship of Quan Yin being its most prominent feature on account of the fact that the Goddess is said to have resided there for nine years, reigning as the Queen of the Southern Seas. The full name of the island is P’u t’o lo ka, from Mount Pataloka, whence the Goddess, in her transformation as Avalokiteshvara, looks down upon mankind. Miao Feng Shan (Mount of the Wondrous Peak) attracts large numbers of pilgrims, who use rattles and fireworks to emphasize their prayers and attract her attention. In 847, the first temple of Quan Yin was built on this island. By 1702, P’u Tuo had four hundred temples and three thousand monks, and was the destination of countless pilgrims. (By 1949, however, P’u Tuo was home to only 140 monasteries and temples.)

No other figure in the Chinese pantheon appears in a greater variety of images, of which there are said to be thousands of different incarnations or manifestations. Quan Yin is usually depicted as a barefoot, gracious woman dressed in beautiful, white flowing robes, with a white hood gracefully draped over the top of the head and carrying a small upturned vase of holy dew. (However, in the Lamaistic form, common in bronze from eighteenth-century China and Tibet, she is often entirely naked.) She stands tall and slender, a figure of infinite grace, her gently composed features conveying the sublime selflessness and compassion that have made her the favorite of all deities. She may be seated on an elephant, standing on a fish, nursing a baby, holding a basket, having six arms or a thousand, and one head or eight, one atop the next, and four, eighteen, or forty hands, which which she strives to alleviate the sufferings of the unhappy. She is frequently depicted as riding a mythological animal known as the Hou, which somewhat resembles a Buddhist lion, and symbolizes the divine supremacy exercised by Quan Yin over the forces of nature. Her bare feet are the consistent quality. On public altars, Quan Yin is frequently flanked by two acolytes, to her right a barefoot, shirtless youth with his hands clasped in prayer known as Shan-ts’ai (Golden Youth), and on her left a maid demurely holding her hands together inside her sleeves known as Lung-nü (Jade Maiden). Her principal feast occurs yearly on the nineteenth day of the second lunar month. However, she is fortunate in having three birthdays, the nineteenth of the second, sixth and ninth months. There are many metamorphoses of this goddess. She is the model of Chinese beauty, and to say a lady or a little girl is a Kwan Yin is the highest compliment that can be paid to grace and loveliness.

According to one ancient legend her name was Miao Shan, and she was the daughter of an Indian Prince. Youthful and serene, she chose to follow a path of self-sacrifice and virtue, and became a pious follower of Buddha, herself attaining the right to buddhahood but remaining on earth to help mankind. In order to convert her blind father, she visited him transfigured as a stranger, and informed him that were he to swallow an eyeball of one of his children, his sight would be restored. His children would not consent to the necessary sacrifice, whereupon the future goddess created an eye which her parent swallowed and he regained his sight. She then persuaded her father to join the Buddhist priesthood by pointing out the folly and vanity of a world in which children would not even sacrifice an eye for the sake of a parent.

Another Miao Shan legend was that the son of the dragon king had taken the form of a carp and was caught by a fisherman and displayed for sale in the market place. Miao Shan sent her servant to buy the fish and released it.

As related in yet another legend Quan Yin was said to be the daughter of a sovereign of the Chou dynasty, who strenuously opposed her wish to be a nun, and was so irritated by her refusal to marry that he put her to humiliating tasks in the convent. This means of coercion failed, and her father then ordered her to be executed for disobedience to his wishes. But the executioner, a man of tender heart and some forethought, brought it about that the sword which was to descend upon her should break into a thousand pieces. Her father thereupon ordered her to be stifled. As the story goes, she forthwith went to Hell, but on her arrival the flames were quenched and flowers burst into bloom. Yama, the presiding officer, looked on in dismay at what seemed to be the summary abolition of his post, and in order to keep his position he sent her back to life again. Carried in the fragrant heart of a lotus flower she went to the island of Putuo, near Ningbo. One day her father fell ill and according to a Chinese custom, she cut the flesh from her arms that it might be made into medicine. A cure was effected, and in his gratitude her father ordered her statue to be made “with completely-formed arms and eyes.” Owing to a misunderstanding of the orders the sculptor carved the statue with many heads and many arms, and so it remains to this day.

The image of this divinity is generally placed on a special altar at the back of the great Shakyamuni Buddha behind a screen, and facing the north door, in the second half of the Buddhist monastery. Quan Yin is also worshiped by the Taoists, and they imitate the Buddhists in their descriptions of this deity, speaking in the same manner of her various metamorphoses, her disposition to save the lost, her purity, wisdom, and marvel-working power.

From early Ch’ing times to the present, many thousands of statues of Quan Yin have been carved in jade. The Maternal Goddess, the Protectress of Children, the Observer of All Sounds, Quan Yin is a favorite figure in domestic shrines. As well, her image is carved on small jades which Chinese women offer faithfully at the temples dedicated to her. She also is the single most important figure crafted in blanc de Chine ware, with approximately nine out of every ten figures from Dehua representing that divinity in one or other of her manifestations. (The Quan Yins often were described to European purchasers as “white Santa Marias,” so as to make them more desirable to a Christian market.)

Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2022/03/16/the-legend-of-quan-yin-goddess-of-mercy/

19. THE GOD IN THE BANYAN TREE [A BAD PROMISE]

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19. The God in the Banyan Tree [A Bad Promise]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

In the past, and even in some places today, people have had superstitions. One such is that a large or unusual tree is inhabited by a tree god, or some kind of spirit. People think that they can make a promise to this tree god, so he will help them in some way. When they think the god has helped them, then they must keep their promise.

Once upon a time, in the city of Kasi in northern India, a man came upon a large banyan tree. He immediately thought there must be a go

d living there. So he made a promise to this tree god that he would perform an animal sacrifice, in return for a wish being granted.

It just so happened that his wish was fulfilled, but whether by a god or a demon or by some other means — no one knows. The man was sure the tree god had answered his prayer, so he wanted to keep his promise.

Since it was a big wish, it called for a big sacrifice. He brought many goats, mules, chickens and sheep. He collected firewood and prepared to burn the helpless animals as a sacrifice.

The spirit living in the banyan tree appeared and said, “Oh friend, you made a promise. You are now bound by that promise. You think you must keep the promise in order to be released from the bondage to it. But if you commit such terrible unwholesome acts, even though promised, the unpleasant results will put you in much greater bondage. For you will be forced to suffer those results in this life, and even by rebirths in hell worlds! The way to release yourself into future deliverance is to give up unwholesome actions, no matter what!

“And furthermore, since you think I’m a true god, what makes you think I eat meat? Haven’t you heard that we gods eat better things, like ‘ambrosia’ or stardust or sunbeams? I have no need of meat or any other food offerings.” Then he disappeared.

The foolish man understood the mistake he had made. Instead of doing unwholesome deeds that would force unhappy results on him in the future, he began to do only wholesome deeds that would benefit himself and others.

The moral is: Keeping a bad promise is worse than making it.

19. The God in the Banyan Tree [A Bad Promise]

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2022/03/15/19-the-god-in-the-banyan-tree-a-bad-promise/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

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18. THE GOAT WHO SAVED THE PRIEST [IGNORANCE]

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18. The Goat Who Saved the Priest [Ignorance]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

Once upon a time, there was a very famous priest in a very old religion. He decided it was the right day to perform the ritual sacrificing of a goat. In his ignorance, he thought this was an offering demanded by his god.

He obtained an appropriate goat for the sacrifice. He ordered his servants to take the goat to the holy river and wash him and decorate him with flower garlands. Then they were to wash themselves, as part of the purification practice.

Down at the riverbank, the goat suddenly understood that today he would definitely be killed. He also became aware of his past births and deaths and rebirths. He realized that the results of his past unwholesome deeds were about to finally be completed. So he laughed an uproarious goat-laugh, like the clanging of cymbals.

In the midst of his laughter, he realized another truth that the priest, by sacrificing him, would suffer the same terrible results, due to his ignorance. So he began to cry as loudly as he had just been laughing!

The servants, who were bathing in the holy river, heard first the laughing and then the crying. They were amazed. So they asked the goat, “Why did you loudly laugh and then just as loudly cry? What is the reason for this?” He replied, “I will tell you the reason. But it must be in the presence of your master, the priest.”

Since they were very curious, they immediately took the sacrificial goat to the priest. They explained all that had happened. The priest, too, became very curious. He respectfully asked the goat, “Sir, why did you laugh so loudly, and then just as loudly cry?”

The goat, remembering his past lives, said, “A long time ago, I too was a priest who, like you, was well educated in the sacred religious rites. I thought that to sacrifice a goat was a necessary offering to my god, which would benefit others, as well as myself in future rebirths. However, the true result of my actions was that in my next 499 lives I myself have been beheaded!

“While being prepared for the sacrifice, I realized that today I will definitely lose my head for the 500th time. Then I will finally be free of all the results of my unwholesome deeds of so long ago. The joy of this made me laugh uncontrollably.

“Then I suddenly realized that you, the priest, were about to repeat the same unwholesome action, and would be doomed to the same result of having your head chopped off in your next 500 lives! So, out of compassion and sympathy, my laughter turned to tears.”

The priest was afraid this goat might be right, so he said, “Well, sir goat, I will not kill you.” The goat replied, “Reverend priest, even if you do not kill me, I know that today I will lose my head and finally be released from the results of my past unwholesome action.”

The priest said, “Don’t be afraid, my fine goat. I will provide the very best protection and personally guarantee that no harm will come to you.” But the goat said, “Oh priest, your protection is very weak, compared to the power of my unwholesome deed to cause its necessary results.”

So the priest cancelled the sacrifice, and began to have doubts about killing innocent animals. He released the goat and, along with his servants, followed him in order to protect him from any danger.

The goat wandered into a rocky place. He saw some tender leaves on a branch and stretched out his neck to reach them. All of a sudden a thunderstorm appeared out of nowhere. A lightning bolt struck an over-hanging rock, and cut off a sharp slab, which fell and chopped off the goat’s head! He died instantly, and the thunderstorm disappeared.

Hearing of this very strange event, hundreds of local people came to the place. No one could understand how it had happened.

There was also a fairy who lived in a nearby tree. He had seen all that had occurred. He appeared, gently fluttering in the air overhead. He began to teach the curious people, saying, “Look at what happened to this poor goat. This was the result of killing animals! All beings are born, and suffer through sickness, old age and death. But all wish to live, and not to die. Not seeing that all have this in common, some kill other living beings. This causes suffering also to those who kill, both now and in countless future rebirths.

“Being ignorant that all deeds must cause results to the doer, some continue to kill and heap up more suffering on themselves in the future. Each time they kill, a part of themselves must also die in this present life. And the suffering continues even by rebirth in hell worlds!”

Those who heard the fairy speak felt that they were very lucky indeed. They gave up their ignorant killing, and were far better off, both in this life, and in pleasant rebirths.

The moral is: Even religion can be a source of ignorance.

18. The Goat Who Saved the Priest [Ignorance]

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2022/03/07/18-the-goat-who-saved-the-priest-ignorance/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

#Buddhisttalesforyoungandold #Buddhiststories #storiesforkids #moralstories #Buddha #Jatakastories #PansiyaPanasJataka

The Monkey King : A Jataka Tale

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The Monkey King : A Jataka Tale

From Kindness

A Treasury of Buddhist Wisdom for Children and Parents

Collected and Adapted by Sarah Conover

When the Buddha and his followers lived at Jetavana, a certain monk in the group was always upset – so much so that he could barely concentrate. When the Buddha asked him about it, the monk replied that he desired many things he couldn’t have; thus, he never felt content. “Oh, monk,” said the Buddha kindly, “these passions have been discarded even by monkeys. It is all the more important for one who lives the holy life to leave these feelings behind. “ And the Buddha recounted this old-world tale about the monkey king.

Once, in olden times, the Buddha came into the world as a monkey. He lived among the treetops of a remote jungle with a large family of monkeys. One day, a woodcutter came to this same jungle to fetch a good supply of logs for his family hearth. But when the woodcutter felled a large tree, he accidentally trapped the young monkey underneath as the tree dropped to the forest floor. When the woodcutter saw his surprise, he decided to bring the monkey home as a present to his king.

The bright monkey quickly tamed and was soon the favorite royal pet. The king let him run everywhere about the palace. So the monkey spent his days visiting the royal courts and kitchens, the guards’ quarters, and all the other enterprises within. The monkey easily learned to imitate the manners of the royal retinue, the ministers, the guards, and even the cook who chased him from her kitchen. It was impossible not to laugh at the monkey’s antics.

After a few years, the king requested that the woodcutter return to the palace. Then the king asked, “As a favor to this monkey who has pleased us so, would you bring him back to the jungle where he was captured? It would be kindest if we let him live out his years with fellow monkeys.” So the woodcutter did as the king bid: he brought the monkey back to the very same spot in the very same jungle and released him.

Photo by vishnudeep dixit on Pexels.com

At once, as soon as the woodcutter had left, a hundred monkeys surrounded the palace monkey, all asking questions at once. “Where have you been living this long time? Where did that man take you? Did you go on a great adventure? Why did he let you go free?” On and on the monkeys clamored, full of curiosity.

When they quieted down, the palace monkey recounted his tale. He told them all about the king’s splendid palace and how he had entertained the king. He told them of the sumptuous feasts, the elegant dances, the noble ministers of the royal court, the king’s fearsome army, and the dark dungeons.

“But then, how did you escape?” They wanted to know.

“I was such a good pet, and I amused them all so, that they felt badly keeping me from my home. The king decided to set me free again, so here I am!”

Now the monkeys were really excited. “Oh, tell us all about the palace life!” They jumped and shouted. “Tell us about the ways of people! Tell us about the grand deeds of a king!” they insisted.

“No, you wouldn’t want to know,” cautioned the palace monkey. “You really won’t like it.”

But the monkeys would not let up until he agreed to show them what life was like for a king. So the palace money picked a monkey in the troop and said, “O.K. then, you be the king. Get up on this high rock and make it your throne. We will set to work and bring you the best fruit in the kingdom!”

So the monkey king sat upon his rock throne, surveying his kingdom and looking quite content. Soon a huge pile of delicious fruit surrounded him. After a time the king monkey began to feel distressed. “ But I could never eat all this fruit, even in a whole year! And how there’s nothing left for all of you to eat,” laments the monkey king.

“Of course you can’t eat it all,”said the palace monkey. But that dose’t matter to a king. The point is that you eat whatever you want, but you must not give any of it away. You must always keep a large pile so that others know you are very rich and very powerful!” So the monkeys, wishing to be like men, brought even more fruit and stacked it even higher around their king.

“What else do we do?” asked the monkeys when there was no more fruit to be had.

“You must all come before the king and praise him in every way you can imagine.”

The monkeys liked this idea, so they tried it.

“Well, no wonder his is king!” pronounced one. “His coat glistens like water.”

“His fur is as thick as deep grass!” boasted another.

“I’ve never seen such a strong and capable animal!” exclaimed a third monkey.

“No one is as wise and dignified as our king!” And so they gathered around their king and enjoyed themselves in flattering him.

“Enough of that,” said the little palace monkey. “Now it’s time to come behind the throne and say terrible things about the king.”

The monkeys didn’t like this idea at all and at first refused to do it. But the palace monkey preserved saying, “You have to try this if you want to learn the ways of people! See what it’s like.”

So the monkeys gathered behind the rock and whispered insults about the king.

“Have you noticed how old and confused the king seems lately?” asked a monkey.

“His eyes seem dull and he constantly forgets what he has said!”  chuckled another.

“I think his fur is getting extremely thin; I think he might even be going bald in some very funny spots” tittered a third.

“I’ve noticed that the king eats more like a pig than a monkey!” said a fourth and they all howled.

At last the insulted monkey king could stand it no longer. He jumped off his throne and ran after them through the trees. But the monkeys each escaped in a hundred different directions from the frustrated king. When the monkey king as last returned to his throne, his eyes widened in astonishment. All the fruit had vanished!

“Where is the fruit?” cried the king. “All my fruit is stolen!” he bellowed.

“Yes, it’s a shame, but these things happen even to kings!” said the palace monkey. “Now your guards must go find the thieves. That’s what a king would do. And when the guards capture the thieves, they must be sentenced to death at once.”

“What?” cried the monkey king. “You want me to kill them? Oh, how could such a terrible thing come to pass?” he wailed. And he covered his ears with his hands and wept.

“No more! No more!” cried all the monkeys. “We don’t want to know anything else about the ways of people and kings!”

The palace monkey, the Former Buddha, then recited for them a little poem he had made up about life in the palace:

“This gold is mine, this gold is mine!’ 

so they cry both day and night:

These foolish folk who live in splendor

never think about the holy way”

“And,” said the Buddha, concluding his lesson, “the monkeys ran away from the rock throne and back up to the tree tops where they all lived happily ever after.”

The Monkey King : A Jataka Tale

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2022/03/04/the-monkey-king-a-jataka-tale/

#Buddhisttalesforyoungandold #Buddhiststories #storiesforkids #moralstories #Buddha #Jatakastories #BuddhistWisdom#BuddhistWisdomforChildrenandParents#Jatakatales

Prince Dighavu

linda chang2 Comments

Prince Dighavu

From Kindness

A Treasury of Buddhist Wisdom for Children and Parents

Collected and Adapted by Sarah Conover

Once, some monks who could not stop quarreling came to the Buddha to ask his advice. “Brothers” the Buddha calmly replied, “ I have told you many times that fight and quarrels solve  no problems – yet you continue. Remember, even some kings with great and powerful armies have learned gentleness. So much the more that you, living the holy life without possessions, should be like light in the world, known far and wide for kindness. Listen now to this story of a noble prince, who became a true hero in the world”.

Once upon a time, two kingdoms lay side by side. One kingdom belonged to the King of Kasi: a powerful ruler who possessed a great army and treasures nursing with gold. But in the nearby kings of Kosala lived a much poorer king. He led a meager army, possessed little gold, and held sway over a modest territory. And just as you might guess, the powerful King of Kasi eyed the small kingdom of Kosala and decided he should conquer it.

When the King of Kosala heard that a large garrison was headed his way, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. To avoid any bloodshed, he counseled with his ministers and decided to immediately surrender his army. As the attacking warriors approached, the King of Kosala slipped away to the city’s edge – he and the queen disguised as humble potters.

After time concealed among the common folk, the queen gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. He was secretly named and crowned, Prince Dighavu. They so loved their new son, that the king and queens only concern became his safety. The king feared that somehow – at some time in the future – the royal family would be recognized. He felt it was only a matter of time; a spy would see through their disguises and kill them all. So with heartfelt loss, the King and Queen of Kosala sent their young prince away to be raised in the countryside.

Alas, a dozend years later, events occurred exactly as the king had feared. The present barber of the king of Kasi had once been the barber to the poorer king. And one day, in the hubbub of the busy marketplace, the barber recognized the disguised king. He easily saw through the king’s charade. The barber fell back into the crowd and secretly pursued the king to discover where he now lived. Then the barber reported right away to the King of Kasi, knowing that he would be richly rewarded for the information. “I have news that right within the walls of this city live both the King and Queen of Kosala! I, who know the king’s face better than any, saw it with my own eyes – they live in a potter’s shed and are disguised as beggars!”

When the King of Kasi heard this report, he feared that if the old king and queen were yet alive, they had a hundred reasons to seek his own death and the return of their kingdom. Disguised or not, he anticipate they would find an opportunity to kill him. So he commanded his guards, “Go now to the potters’ sheds near the outskirts of town. Arrest the old king and queen! When you find them, it will be their last hour! Bind their arms, shave their heads, bring them outside the gates of the city and destroy them!” And thus the guards were dispatched to the capture the couple.

But very early this same day, the young Prince Dighavu awoke full of longing to be with his parents. Now old enough to travel from village alone, he reasoned, “It’s been months since I’ve seen my parents. I would so much like to visit them today! I will make them a present of ripened fruit and delicious cheese from the country.” And so the prince cheerfully gathered a few gifts, packed some clothing and money, and set out of the city.

By this time, however, the guards had found the royal couple – just exactly where the barber had betrayed them to be. They bound their arms tightly with thick rope and dragged them roughly through the streets. But the king and queen walked with dignity, even as they reached the city gates where they knew they would soon die.

And so it came to pass that just as Prince Dighavu  was entering the city, he witnessed his parents being led to their deaths. In desperation, he made his way to the front of the surrounding crowd. Just sat the moment he spied his parents, they too, saw him amidst the mob. When the prince neared within earshot, his father shouted, “Dear Dighavu, do not look long! Do not look short! For hatred is not stopped by more hatted! No, dear one, hatred ends only by love!”

The soldiers thought the old know had lost his mind. “Who is this Dighavu? What gibberish you speak!”

But the king cautioned Dighavu twice more in the same way, finishing, “He that is intelligent will understand my meaning!” There were the king’s last words. As swords fell upon his parents’ heads, the anguished prince said a silent farewell so as not to reveal his own identity.

Photo by Lucas Piero on Pexels.com

Prince Dighavu went to the nearby forest and fell to the ground. In agony he wept and wept until he could weep no more. Under the empty night sky, he considered the terrible murder of his parents and devised a plan to recover his family’s honor.

First, he returned to the city, and purchased some liquor for the soldiers standing guard over his parents. When the guards cucumber to the alcohol and fell asleep, the prince performed a funeral by the city gates. But at that same, exact moment, from the atop the splendid place tower, the King of Kasi happened to see the prince paying his respects to the murdered king and queen. “Alas!” Said the king in great alarm. “What misfortune will happen now? I will still have no safety or peace of mind while someone who cares for them wishes to reverse their deaths!”

And so it came to pass that the very next day Prince Dighavu embarked on such a plan. He went to the king’s elephant stable and asked that the elephant trainer teach him his art. The trainer agreed to take on the eager apprentice. As part of the prince’s secret plan, he rose each day at dawn to play the lute and sing to the entire palace compound. His lovely songs were haunting and captivating. Just as the prince has hoped, the King of Kasi, standing on his palace balcony, heard the enchanting voice and asked his attendants from whence it came. “Your Majesty,” they replied, “it is the elephant trainer’s new apprentice”.

“Bring him to me,” commanded the king. “I must meet the one who possesses such a gift.”

All was proceeding exactly in accord with Prince Dighavu’s Plan. He came before the king, strummed the lute even more beautifully, and sang his most soothing melodies. The king was utterly charmed. “Young man”, said the king, “such a voice comes only from one with the finest sensibilities and depth of feeling. I would like you to have the honor of being my manservant.” So Prince Dighavu – still unknown for his identity – became the king’s personal attendant. He rose before the king, preparing the king’s affairs; he retired at night long after the king’s affairs; and he obeyed the king’s every command in between. And in due time, the king appointed Prince Dighavu as Councilor and Confidant – just as the prince had hoped.

But Prince Dighavu’s secret and grand scheme was far from complete. A year or so later, the prince had the chance he had worked and waited for. It so happened that one balmy, spring day, the king wished to go for a chariot ride. To Prince Dighavu he requested,”Harness the chariot, my best man; I wish to go hunting in the forest and I want you alone to drive me.”

“Yes, your majesty, right away!” Obeyed the prince. A magnificent chariot of gold and lapis was harnessed to two steeds. The prince firmly held the reins and hurried the chariot towards the city’s perimeter. As the city’s gates opened wide for the royal chariot, Prince Dighavu saw the king’s army go in the direction of the eastern forest; the prince steered the chariot towards the west. “I believe the hunting will be better in these quieter woods sir,” he assured the king.

“Very well, my man. Let us try it out,” replied the king.

The day was cloudless, and after an hour of travel, the heat oppressive. The sultry, midday sun made the king grow drowsy. “My man, unharness the chariot,” he mumbled. “ I am tired and I wish to lie down in the shade of some trees.”

“Yes, your majesty,” complied the prince. The prince watered and hobbled the horses, then rested beside the king under a large Banyan tree. The king placed his trusting head in the prince’s lap and fell immediately to sleep.

With the king’s safety resting utterly in the hands of Prince Dighavu, the prince’s plan was nearly complete. As the prince looked upon the sleeping king, he thought to himself, “The king of Kasi has done me as much harm as any man could. He has murdered my mother and father! He has robbed our kingdom of its treasury and territory! He has destroyed the honor of the Kingdom of Kosala! Now is the time for me to avenge my hatred!”

Ever so quietly, the prince unsheathed his sword. But as he raised his sword over the king, ready to inflict his punishment, his father’s last words seemed to shout within him: Dighavu, hatred is not stopped by more hatred! No, dear one, hatred ends only by love! Prince Dighavu could not disobey his father’s dying words. He could not kill this unsuspecting king. The prince slowly sheathed his sword. But then the same thought of revenge – the thought that had been his mission since the day of his parents’ deaths – rose in him more strongly! He had waited years for this moment! Again, he unsheathed his sword. But alas, he stopped himself once more; he could not act against his father’s last wish; he could not end his hatred with another murder.

Suddenly, the king awoke and sat bolt upright – pale and terrified! The prince’s internal struggle abruptly ended. “Your Majesty!” Said the prince, “what ever had occurred? Why did you wake so alarmed?”

The king gasped, “Right now, in my dream, the son of the King of Kosala – the heir and prince – wanted to kill me by sword. He was going to sever my head! I thought I was about to die!”

Then Prince Dighavu, gently touching the neck of the king with his left hand and drawing his sword with the other, told him the truth. “I, your majesty, am that prince! I am Prince Dighavu, son of the King of Kosala! You have robbed my people of food, territory, and treasure. You have even killed my own mother and father! This would indeed be the time to show my hatred and exact my revenge!”

At that admission, the king fell upon his knees at the feet of the prince and begged for forgiveness. “ Grant me my life, dear Dighavu ! Grant me my life!” Wept the king. 

In his heart, Prince Dighavu now realized what his father had meant for him to learn. He told the king of his father’s forgiving words – his last words – and how they stopped the prince from ending the king’s life. The prince proclaimed that he would no longer carry this terrible hatred. “Although I have the power to grant you your life at this moment,” said the prince to the king, “you also have the power to grant me my life: for you can assure my safety in your kingdom!”

“This is very true,” agreed the king. “Grant me my life now and I’ll forever grant you yours. We will no longer be enemies, but vow to live in peace.” At that, the prince and king swore an oath never to harm one another and to protect each other’s well being.

Photo by Maria Orlova on Pexels.com

Peaceful now, with a warm feeling of forgiveness, the two men harnessed the horses remounted the chariot, and leisurely made their way back to the palace. When the king returned to his court, he gathered all his ministers and councilors together. “Tell me sirs,” asked the king, “if it happened that you laid eyes upon Prince Dighavu, son of the King of Kosala, what would you do?”

A minister immediately spoke up, “ Your majesty, we would kill him on the spot!”

“Yes!” Shouted another. “We would chop off his head and cut him to pieces!” Many voices rose in a cacophony of agreement.

But the king said, “Hush! Sirs, in front of you is Prince Dighavu, son of the King of Kosala.” A great, astonished silence filled the hall. The king continued, “ You may not harm him. He has granted me my life and I have granted him his.” The king turned to the prince; “I would like you to tell them, young prince, the marvelous meaning of your father’s last words.”

All eyes in the court turned to the prince. He looked at his audience with courage and forgiveness. “When my father said to me in his hour of death, ‘Look not long dear Dighavu’ what he meant was, ‘Do not hold on to hatred, do not nurture it.’ When, Your Majesty, my father spoke, ‘Look not short,’ what he meant was, ‘Do not lose friends easily – be the most loyal of friends.’ When my father said, ‘Hatred is not stopped by more hatred!’ What he wanted me to learn was this: the king has had my mother and father killed. Were I to kill Your Majesty, your people wold want to kill me, and my people would want to kill those who had harmed me. Hatred would not end by further hatred. On and on it would go, with many lives lost and many hearts broken. But now,” continued the prince, turning towards the king, “ Your Majesty had given me my life ad safety, and I have done the same for you. So by love and forgiveness we have stopped this terrible cycle of hatred.”

The king blessed the prince, “Oh, councilors! Is it not remarkable how deeply the prince understands his father’s brief words!” And thus the king returned to Prince Dighavu the army, territory, and treasure that rightfully belonged to the Kingdom of Kosala. The prince and the king’s own daughter were soon married, and they all lived in peace, two kingdoms side by side, happily ever after.

“And so I say to you,” declared the Buddha to the monks, “enough of fighting! This is my advice, good brothers.” And the Buddha returned to the solace of his meditation.

The moral is : For never in this world Do hatreds cease through hatred; Through love alone do they end. This is the ancient and eternal law.

Prince Dighavu

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2022/02/18/prince-dighavu/

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11. BEAUTY AND GREY [A WISE LEADER]

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11. BEAUTY AND GREY [A WISE LEADER]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

Once upon a time, there was a deer who was the leader of a herd of a thousand. He had two sons. One was very slim and tall, with bright alert eyes, and smooth reddish fur. He was called Beauty. The other was Grey in color, also slim and tall, and was called Grey.

One day, after they were fully grown, their father called Beauty and Grey to him. He said, “I am now very old, so I cannot do all that is necessary to look after this big herd of deer. I want you, my two grown-up children, to be the leaders, while I retire from looking after them all the time. We will divide the herd, and each of you will lead 500 deer.” So it was done.

In India, when the harvest time comes, the deer are always in danger. The rice is at its tallest, and the deer cannot help but go into the paddies and eat it. To avoid the destruction of their crops, the human beings dig pits, set sharp stakes in the ground, and build stone traps — all to capture and kill the deer.

Knowing this was the season, the wise old deer called the two new leaders to him. He advised them to take the herds up into the mountain forest, far from the dangerous farm lands. This was how he had always saved the deer from being wounded or killed. Then he would bring them back to the low lands after the harvest was over.

Since he was too old and weak for the trip, he would remain behind in hiding. He warned them to be careful and have a safe journey. Beauty set out with his herd for the mountain forest, and so did Grey with his.

The villagers all along the way knew that this was the time the deer moved from the low lying farm lands to the high countryside. So they hid along the way and killed the deer as they passed by.

Grey did not pay attention to his father’s wise advice. Instead of being careful and traveling safely, he was in a hurry to get to the lush mountain forest. So he moved his herd constantly, during the night, at dawn and dusk, and even in broad daylight. This made it easy for the people to shoot the deer in Grey’s herd with bows and arrows. Many were killed, and many were wounded, only to die in pain later on. Grey reached the forest with only a few deer remaining alive.

The tall sleek red-furred Beauty was wise enough to understand the danger to his moving herd. So he was very careful. He knew it was safer to stay away from the villages, and from all humans. He knew it was not safe in the daytime, or even at dawn or dusk. So he led his herd wide around the villages, and moved only in the middle of the night. Beauty’s herd arrived in the mountain forest safe and sound, with no one killed or injured.

The two herds found each other, and remained in the mountains until well after the harvest season was over. Then they began the return to the farmland country.

Grey had learned nothing from the first trip. As it was getting cold in the mountains, he was in a hurry to get to the warmer low lands. So he was just as careless as before. Again the people hid along the way and attacked and killed the deer. All Grey’s herd were killed, later to be eaten or sold by the villagers. Grey himself was the only one who survived the journey.

Beauty led his herd in the same careful way as before. He brought back all 500 deer, completely safe. While the deer were still in the distance, the old chief said to his doe, “Look at the deer coming back to us. Beauty has all his followers with him. Grey comes limping back alone, without his whole herd of 500. Those who follow a wise leader, with good qualities, will always be safe. Those who follow a foolish leader, who is careless and thinks only of himself, will fall into troubles and be destroyed.”

After some time, the old deer died and was reborn as he deserved. Beauty became chief of the herd and lived a long life, loved and admired by all.

The moral is: A wise leader puts the safety of his followers first.

11. Beauty and Grey [A Wise Leader]

Link:https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2021/12/25/11-beauty-and-grey-a-wise-leader/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

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14. THE WIND-DEER AND THE HONEY-GRASS [THE CRAVING FOR TASTE]

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14. THE WIND-DEER AND THE HONEY-GRAS [THE CRAVING FOR TASTE]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

Once upon a time, the King of Benares had a gardener who looked after his pleasure garden. Animals sometimes came into the garden from the nearby forest. The gardener complained about this to the king, who said, “If you see any strange animal, tell me at once.”

One day, he saw a strange kind of deer at the far end of the garden. When he saw the man, he ran like the wind. That is why they are called ‘wind-deer’. They are a rare breed, that are extremely timid. They are very easily frightened by human beings.

The gardener told the king about the wind-deer. He asked the gardener if he could catch the rare animal. He replied, “My lord, if you give me some bee’s honey, I could even bring him into the palace!” So the king ordered that he be given as much bee’s honey as he wanted.

This particular wind-deer loved to eat the flowers and fruits in the king’s pleasure garden. The gardener let himself be seen by him little by little, so he would be less frightened. Then he began to smear honey on the grass where the wind-deer usually came to eat. Sure enough, the deer began eating the honey-smeared grass. Soon he developed a craving for the taste of this ‘honey-grass’. The craving made him come to the garden every day. Before long, he would eat nothing else!

Little by little, the gardener came closer and closer to the wind-deer. At first, he would run away. But later, he lost his fear and came to think the man was harmless. As the gardener became more and more friendly, eventually he got the deer to eat the honey-grass right out of his hand. He continued doing this for some time, in order to build up his confidence and trust.

Meanwhile, the gardener had rows of curtains set up, making a wide pathway from the far end of the pleasure garden to the king’s palace. From inside this pathway, the curtains would keep the wind-deer from seeing any people that might scare him.

When all was prepared, the gardener took a bag of grass and a container of honey with him. Again he began hand-feeding the wind-deer when he appeared. Gradually, he led the wind-deer into the curtained-off pathway. Slowly, he continued to lead him with the honey-grass, until finally the deer followed him right into the palace. Once inside, the palace guards closed the doors, and the wind-deer was trapped. Seeing the people of the court, he suddenly became very frightened and began running around, madly trying to escape.

The king came down to the hall and saw the panic-stricken wind-deer. He said, “What a wind-deer! How could he have gotten into such a state? A wind-deer is an animal who will not return to a place where he has so much as seen a human, for seven full days. Ordinarily, if a wind-deer is at all frightened in a particular place, he will not return for the whole rest of his life! But look! Even such a shy wild creature can be enslaved by his craving for the taste of something sweet. Then he can be lured into the center of the city and even inside the palace itself.

“My friends, the teachers warn us not to be too attached to the place we live, for all things pass away. They say that being too attached to a small circle of friends is confining and restricts a broad outlook. But see how much more dangerous is the simple craving for a sweet flavour, or any other taste sensation. See how this beautiful shy animal was trapped by my gardener, by taking advantage of his craving for taste.”

Not wishing to harm the gentle wind-deer, the king had him released into the forest. He never returned to the royal pleasure garden, and he never missed the taste of honey-grass.

The moral is: “It is better to eat to live, than to live to eat.”

14. The Wind-deer and the Honey-gras [The Craving for Taste]

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2022/01/17/14-the-wind-deer-and-the-honey-grass-the-craving-for-taste/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

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13. MOUNTAIN BUCK AND VILLAGE DOE [INFATUATION]

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13. MOUNTAIN BUCK AND VILLAGE DOE [INFATUATION]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

Once upon a time, in northern India, there was a herd of village deer. They were used to being near villages; they were born there and grew up there. They knew they had to be very careful around people. This was especially true at harvest time, when the crops were tall, and the farmers trapped and killed any deer who came near.

At harvest time, the village deer stayed in the forest all day long. They only came near the village during the dark of the night. One of these was a beautiful young doe. She had soft reddish-brown fur, a fluffy white tail and big wide bright eyes.

During this particular season, there was a young mountain buck who had strayed into the same low forest. One day, he saw the beautiful young doe, and immediately became infatuated with her. He didn’t know anything about her. But he imagined himself to be deeply in love with her, just because of her reddish-brown fur and her fluffy white tail and her big wide bright eyes. He even dreamed about her, although she did not know he existed!

After a few days, the young mountain buck decided to introduce himself. As he was walking out into the clearing where she was grazing, he was entranced by her appearance and could not take his eyes off her. He began speaking: “Oh my sweet beauty, as lovely as the stars and as bright as the moon, I confess to you that I am deeply” — Just then the young buck’s hoof got caught in a root, he tripped and fell, and his face splashed in a mud puddle! The pretty village doe was flattered, so she smiled. But inside, she thought this mountain buck was really rather silly!

Meanwhile, unknown to the deer, there was a clan of tree fairies living in that part of the forest. They had been watching the mountain buck, while he secretly watched the village doe. When he walked out into the clearing, began his speech, and fell in the mud puddle – the fairies laughed and laughed. “What fools these dumb animals are!” they cried. But one fairy did not laugh. He said,”I fear this is a warning of danger to this young fool!”

The young buck was a little embarrassed, but he did not see it as any kind of warning. From then on, he followed the doe wherever she went. He kept telling her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She didn’t pay much attention.

Then night came, and it was time for the doe to go down to the village. The people who lived along the way knew the deer passed by at night. So they set traps to catch them. That night a hunter waited, hiding behind a bush.

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Carefully, the village doe set out. The mountain buck, who was still singing her praises, went right along with her. She stopped and said to him, “My dear buck, you are not experienced with being around villages. You don’t know how dangerous human beings are. The village, and the way to it, can bring death to a deer even at night. Since you are so young and inexperienced (and she thought to herself, ‘and foolish’), you should not come down to the village with me. You should remain in the safety of the forest.”

At this, the tree fairies applauded. But of course, the deer could not hear them.

The young buck paid no attention to the doe’s warning. He just said, “Your eyes look so lovely in the moonlight!” and kept walking with her. She said, “If you won’t listen to me, at least be quiet!” He was so infatuated with her, that he could not control his mind. But he did finally shut his mouth!

After a while, they approached the place where the hunter was hiding behind a bush. The fairies saw him, and became agitated and frightened for the deer’s safety. They flew nervously around the tree, branches, but they could only watch.

The doe could smell the hiding man. She was afraid of a trap. So, thinking to save her own life, she let the buck go first. She followed a little way behind.

When the hunter saw the unsuspecting mountain buck, he shot his arrow and killed him instantly. Seeing this, the terrified doe turned tail and ran back to the forest clearing as fast as she could.

The hunter claimed his kill. He started a fire, skinned the deer, cooked some of the venison and ate his fill. Then he threw the carcass over his shoulder and carried it back home to feed his family.

When the fairies saw what happened, some of them cried. As they watched the hunter cut up the once noble looking buck, some of them felt sick. Others blamed the careful doe for leading him to the slaughter.

But the wise fairy, who had given the first warning, said, “It was the excitement of infatuation that killed this foolish deer. Such blind desire brings false happiness at first, but ends in pain and suffering.”

The moral is: Infatuation leads to destruction.

13. Mountain Buck and Village Doe [Infatuation]

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2022/01/11/13-mountain-buck-and-village-doe-infatuation/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

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12. KING BANYAN DEER [CHAPTER 1. COMPASSION]

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12. KING BANYAN DEER [CHAPTER 1. COMPASSION]

Buddhist Tales for Young and Old, volume 1, Prince Goodspeaker, Stories 1-50

Once upon a time, an unusual and beautiful deer was born in the forests near Benares, in northern India. Although he was as big as a young colt, it was easy for his mother to give birth to him. When he opened his eyes, they were as bright as sparkling jewels. His mouth was as red as the reddest forest berries. His hoofs were as black as polished coal. His little horns glistened like silver. And his color was golden, like a perfect summer’s dawn. As he grew up, a herd of 500 deer gathered around him, and he became known as King Banyan Deer.

Meanwhile, not far away, another beautiful buck deer was born, just as splendidly golden in color. In time, a separate herd of 500 deer came to follow him, and he was known as Branch Deer.

The King of Benares, at that time, was very fond of eating venison. So he regularly hunted and killed deer. Each time he hunted, he went to a different village and ordered the people to serve him. They had to stop what they were doing, whether plowing or harvesting or whatever, and work in the king’s hunting party.

The people’s lives were upset by these interruptions. They grew fewer crops, and other businesses also had less income. So they came together and decided to build a large deer park for the king, at Benares. There he could hunt by himself, with no need to command the services of the villagers.

So the people built a deer park. They made ponds where the deer could drink, and added trees and grasses for them to eat from. When it was ready, they opened the gate and went out into the nearby forests. They surrounded the entire herds of Banyan and Branch deer. Then, with sticks and weapons and noise makers, they drove them all into the deer park trap, and locked the gate behind them.

After the deer had settled down, the people went to the king and said, “Our crops and income have suffered because of your hunting requirements. Now we have made you a pleasant safe deer park, where you can hunt by yourself as you like. With no need of our aid, you can enjoy both the hunting and the eating of deer.”

The king went to the new deer park. There he was pleased to see the vast herds. While watching them, his eye was caught by the two magnificent golden deer, with large fully grown antlers. Because he admired their unusual beauty, the king granted immunity to these two alone. He ordered that they should be completely safe. No one could harm or kill them.

Once a day the king would come and kill a deer for his dinner table. Sometimes, when he was too busy, the royal cook would do this. The body would then be brought to the chopping block to be butchered for the oven.

Whenever the deer saw the bow and arrows, they went into a panic, trembling for their lives. They ran around wildly, some being injured and some wounded, many suffering great pain.

One day, King Banyan Deer’s herd gathered around him. He called Branch Deer, and the two herds joined for a meeting. King Banyan Deer addressed them. “Although in the end, there is no escape from death, this needless suffering due to injuries and wounds can be prevented. Since the king only wishes the meat of one deer per day, let one be chosen by us each day to submit himself to the chopping block. One day from my herd, and the next day from Branch Deer’s herd, the victim’s lot will fall to one deer at a time.”

Branch Deer agreed. From then on, the one whose turn it was, meekly surrendered himself and laid his neck on the block. The cook came each day, simply killed the waiting victim, and prepared the king’s venison.

Photo by Elina Sazonova on Pexels.com

One day, the turn fell by chance to a pregnant doe in Branch Deer’s herd. Caring for the others as well as herself and the unborn one, she went to Branch Deer and said, “My lord, I am pregnant. Grant that I may live until I have delivered my fawn. Then we will fill two turns rather than just one. This will save a turn, and thereby a single life for one long day.”

Branch Deer replied, “No, no, I cannot change the rules in midstream and put your turn upon another. The pregnancy is yours, the babe is your responsibility. Now leave me.”

Having failed with Branch Deer, the poor mother doe went to King Banyan Deer and explained her plight. He replied gently, “Go in peace. I will change the rules in midstream and put your turn upon another.”

And the deer king went to the executioner’s block, and laid down his own golden neck upon it.

A silence fell in the deer park. And some who tell this story even say that silence also fell in other worlds not seen from here.

Soon the royal cook came to kill the willing victim on the block. But when he saw it was one of the two golden deer the king had ordered spared, he was afraid to kill him. So he went and told the King of Benares.

The king was surprised, so he went to the park. He said to the golden deer, still lying on the block, “Oh king of deer, did I not promise to spare your life? What is the reason you come here like the others?”

King Banyan Deer replied, “Oh king of men, this time a pregnant doe was unlucky enough to be the one to die. She pleaded for me to spare her, for the sake of others as well as her unborn baby and herself. I could not help but feel myself in her place, and feel her suffering. I could not help but weep, to think the little one would never see the dawn, would never taste the dew. And yet, I could not force the pain of death on another, relieved to think it was not his turn today. So, mighty king, I offer my life for the sake of the doe and her unborn fawn. Be assured there is no other reason.”

The King of Benares was overwhelmed. Powerful as he was, a tear rolled down his cheek. Then he said, “Oh great lord, the golden king of deer, even among human beings, I have not seen any such as you! Such great compassion, to share in the suffering of others! Such great generosity, to give your life for others! Such great kindness and tender love for all your fellow deer! Arise.”

“I decree that you will never be killed by me or anyone else in my kingdom. And, so too, the doe and her babe.”

Without yet raising his head, the golden one said, “Are only we to be saved? What of the other deer in the park, our friends and kin?” The king said, “My lord, I cannot refuse you, I grant safety and freedom to all the deer in the park.” “And what of the deer outside the park, will they be killed?” asked Banyan. “No my lord, I spare all the deer in my whole kingdom.”

Still the golden deer did not raise up his head. He pleaded, “So the deer will be safe, but what will the other four-footed animals do?” “My lord, from now on they too are safe in my land.” “And what of the birds? They too want to live.” “Yes, my lord, the birds too will be safe from death at the hands of men.” “And what of the fish, who live in the water?” “Even the fish will be free to live, my lord.” So saying, the King of Benares granted immunity from hunting and killing to all the animals in his land.

Having pleaded for the lives of all creatures, the Great Being arose.

12. King Banyan Deer [Chapter 1. Compassion]

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiiinfo.com/2022/01/03/12-king-banyan-deer-chapter-1-compassion/

INTERPRETER’S INTRODUCTION – BUDDHIST TALES FOR YOUNG AND OLD, VOLUME 1, STORIES 1-50

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The Noble Ibex

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The Noble Ibex

From Kindness <A Treasury of Buddhist Wisdom For Children and Parents>

By Sarah Conover

Once upon a time, the Buddha was born as a magnificent ibex. The forest in which he lived was far from civilization and therefore tranquil, inhabited by many creatures both small and large. Along the banks of clear, babbling brooks were found rare flowers, which blossomed nowhere else on earth. Trees towered above the lush undergrowth and kept the forest cool and mild.

The noble ibex that lived in this forest, the Former Buddha, was as beautiful as he was sleek and swift. He had the body of an animal but the intelligence and empathy of a human being. So deep was his kindness for all living creatures that he often trod delicately so as not to crush anything. He ate nothing but the tips of grasses already gone to seed.

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As this region was renowned for its great beauty, hunting parties would at times make long journeys to reach it. On one such occasion, a king and his friends camped on the edge of the forest, hoping to bag large amounts of game before the end of their stay. One morning, the king set out on horseback with his small group following him. Not long after, the king caught a glimpse of the splendid ibex and wanted to hunt him down. Snapping his reins across his horse’s neck, the king dashed away in chase, leaving the group far behind.

When the ibex heard the quick pounding of hooves, he turned and saw the king swiftly bearing down upon him. The king’s bow was drawn taut and an arrow ready in the sites. Although the ibex could have fought the king’s attack, he chose to avoid violence, even in self-defense. So the ibex spun around and took off with great speed towards the dense center of the forest, confident the king could not catch him. Through the thick forest he sprang, still pursued by the king, but the distance between them was increasing. The ibex came to a familiar, small, deep chasm and leapt over it effortlessly. But the king’s horse, coming to that same rocky cliff, abruptly pressed his weight backwards and refused to jump. The king had been watching the ibex, not the forest floor. So when the horse stopped with a jolt, the surprised king fell forward, headlong, into the chasm.

After a time, the ibex heard no hoof beats in pursuit. He slowed and twisted his head around to examine the situation behind him. There in the distance he spotted the rider-less horse at the chasm’s edge and correctly guessed what had happened to the king. A sudden welling of kindness overcame him. He anticipated that the king must be in severe pain, surely having broken a number of bones in the fall. He knew also that the king would never survive long in this forest because there were many tigers and other beasts.

The ibex walked up to the chasm edge and saw the king far below, moaning and writhing in pain. He no longer looked upon the king as his enemy, but felt his suffering keenly. The Former Buddha gently inquired, “I hope your majesty has no serious wounds? Might the pain of your injuries be diminishing by now?”

The king looked up at the ibex in utter astonishment. He felt a dreadful pang of remorse for his behavior towards this noble animal. Oh, how the king felt his shame!

“You see, your Excellency,” comforted the Ibex, “I am no wild devil to be hunted for sport. I am just a peaceful creature living within the bounds of this beautiful forest.”

“Oh!” blurted the king. “It is I who acted as a beast, not you! Can you ever forgive me?” he asked. “My physical pain right now,” continued the king, “is far less than the pain I feel for having threatened a noble creature as yourself.”

“Sire,” responded the ibex, “let me help you out of your predicament. I can rescue you if you’ll trust me.” The ibex took the king’s silence as a sign of goodwill and knew that the king would accept his help. He then searched for a boulder as heavy as a man and practiced lifting it. When he felt he could do it safely, without slipping, he made his way down the rocks beside the king. “If you mount me as you would your horse, your Excellency, I believe I can leap out of the chasm with you on my back,” offered the ibex.

The king followed these directions and held on as best he could. In an instant the ibex leapt in a great arc onto the cliff rim. There the king found his waiting horse but was so overtaken by the goodness of the ibex he could not leave. “What can I do to repay you?” begged the king. “If you would come to my palace, we would see that your every need was met. I can’t bear to think of you left in this forest with hunters in pursuit. Please, please come back with me,” insisted the king.

“Sire, do you think I, who am so contented in the forest, could really adjust to that? I love nothing better than to live here, in peace. But there is one great favor I would ask of you.”

“Anything,” said the king.

“I ask that you give up hunting for sport. You now realize that all creatures want happiness and security. Can it be right to do to them what you yourself would despise? A true king,” proclaimed the ibex, “will gain his people’s love by showing great goodness, not by showing power.”

The grateful king agreed to the request. “Now, let me show you the way back to safety,” suggested the ibex. “Mount your horse and I will guide you home to your camp.”

The king soon returned to his palace, and the ibex disappeared into the shelter of the forest. But forevermore, the king lived by the wise words of the noble ibex, the Former Buddha. He forbade hunting for sport throughout his kingdom’s domain. He protected his people, but no longer waged costly wars against nearby countries. His kingdom flourished. And thus, the good king was greatly loved and respected by his people as the gentlest and wisest of all kings.

Title: The Noble Ibex

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2022/01/07/the-noble-ibex/

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