During the Great Depression, a wealthy baker summoned the twenty poorest children in town and said to them, “Until God brings better times, you may each come here every day and take a loaf of bread.”
Every morning, these hungry children would rush forward, crowding around the basket of bread, pushing and shouting, each one trying to grab the biggest loaf. After snatching their bread, they would dash off without even a word of thanks to the kind-hearted baker.
But there was one girl, a poorly dressed little girl named Gretchen, who stood out from the rest. She never pushed or shouted, nor did she fight for the largest loaf. Instead, she quietly waited at the side until all the other children had taken theirs. Then she would humbly pick up the smallest loaf left in the basket. Without fail, she would gently kiss the baker’s hand in gratitude before happily heading home with her bread.
One day, after the others had left, shy little Gretchen received a loaf even smaller than usual. Still, she kissed the baker’s hand and thanked him sincerely as always. When she returned home, her mother cut the bread open—and to their amazement, found several shiny silver coins hidden inside.
Her mother gasped, “Gretchen! Take the money back immediately. The baker must have accidentally dropped it into the dough while kneading. Hurry, return it and give it back to that kind man yourself!”
When Gretchen returned the coins, the baker gently told her, “No, my child, this was no mistake. I placed the coins there on purpose. I wanted to teach you something: Those who are humble and considerate will be blessed by God. May you always keep a peaceful and grateful heart. Go home and tell your mother—this is God’s reward.”
A heart of humility is like the sky above, the sea upon the earth, and the valleys between the mountains— Humble people are vast because they are tolerant, and powerful because they are generous.
Those who are eager to fight will find Heaven itself contending against them. But those who yield and show humility will find that Heaven yields to them.
“Those who genuinely help others always end up helping themselves.” This powerful truth was the headline of a Washington Post article recounting the inspiring life story of Carlos Gutierrez. From humble beginnings as a working-class youth, he rose to become one of the most respected figures in American business and government. His secret? A simple yet profound practice: doing one good deed a day.
Carlos Gutierrez is best remembered for saying: “A person’s destiny is not necessarily shaped by a single great act. I believe that more often, it is shaped by small acts of kindness in everyday life.”
Born into a privileged family, Gutierrez’s early life was marked by comfort and stability. But everything changed after a revolution forced his family to flee their island home. They arrived in Miami with nothing. At the age of fifteen, to help support his family, Carlos took his first job as a waiter in a small seaside restaurant.
He was diligent, eager to learn, and even willing to work without pay. His commitment caught the eye of the restaurant owner, who invited him into his home and introduced him to his children to help Carlos improve his English.
Thanks to his strong work ethic and positive attitude, Gutierrez was soon recommended for a second job—this time as a salesman and delivery driver at a food company. Before he began, his father passed on a simple family principle: “Do one good deed a day.” He explained that this habit had helped build their once-successful life, and urged Carlos to live by it.
Carlos took that lesson to heart. While delivering oatmeal to mom-and-pop shops around the city, he went out of his way to help others—carrying letters to nearby towns, giving children rides home from school, offering small kindnesses without ever expecting anything in return. He did this joyfully, for four years.
In his fifth year, the company recognized his contributions in a remarkable way. They promoted him to lead marketing operations for Latin America from their Mexico office. His performance review noted: “This employee, over the past four years, has personally accounted for 40% of Florida’s total sales volume. He should be promoted.”
From there, his rise was meteoric. He took on leadership across Canada and the Asia-Pacific region, eventually becoming CEO of the company.
Later, as top American corporations like Coca-Cola and Colgate considered him for their CEO positions, President George W. Bush nominated him as Secretary of Commerce in the United States government.
Carlos Gutierrez’s story reflects a timeless truth found in Buddhist teachings. A Buddhist master once shared how, in the early days of his Dharma teaching, only a few rural housewives followed him. He taught them to practice kindness in the simplest way: “Take a small coin from your grocery money—just a dime—and use it each day to do a good deed.” At the end of the month, they would have performed thirty selfless acts from the heart. One good deed a day, and one’s merit grows.
The practice may seem simple, but when carried out with sincerity and perseverance, it awakens our inner awareness. Like a stream that flows quietly but never ceases, daily kindness trains the mind to stay rooted in goodness and deepens our spiritual cultivation—from surface-level thoughts to the very heart of intention.
Traditional Chinese culture also upholds the principle of “doing one good deed a day.” This value is deeply reflected in the classic text The Four Lessons of Liaofan, where Yuan Liaofan outlines a path of self-transformation through the active cultivation of virtue. By committing to perform a thousand good deeds, he not only benefited others but also profoundly changed his own destiny.
Even a single kind thought toward others is an act of goodness. A word that uplifts or benefits someone is a good deed. And a small action—no matter how minor—that helps another person is still a meaningful expression of kindness.
Whether through our thoughts, speech, or actions, if we put others first, we are cultivating virtue. That is the essence of being a good human being.
And importantly, we must remember: never withhold kindness just because it seems too small. Do good whenever the opportunity arises. Act from the heart, with sincerity and joy—not for show, not for praise—but naturally and spontaneously, with the intention to benefit others. This is the foundation of true bodhisattva conduct.
Goodness does not need an audience. “Virtue does not require recognition; Heaven always sees our good deeds.” A seed of kindness, planted in silence, will one day bloom with beautiful results—often when we least expect it.
So let us each begin with just one small act of kindness a day. It may seem simple, but over time, it has the power to change not just our lives—but the world.
I have always heard certain quotes attributed to Albert Einstein concerning what he believed about Buddhism including one that implied that if he were a religious man he would be a Buddhist. There does not seem to be any evidence that he said that, but I found the following to be useful. The first part is an article by Kang Na, Assistant Professor of Religion at Westminister College that provides context for the essay and additional quotes by Einstein.
Certainly no one in 1879 in Ulm, Germany, could have guessed that one of their own born that year would someday receive global praise for his undisputed genius, meriting recently the coveted title “person of the century” (Time magazine). Likewise, international fame was probably not what Albert Einstein himself anticipated in 1895 when he failed the entrance exam for the Federal Polytechnical Institute in Zurich, Switzerland. Even as he worked and was being promoted at the Swiss Patent Office in Bern, Switzerland (1902–08), Einstein was far from becoming a household name, let alone the most renowned Nobel Prize winner in physics, which he received in 1921 not for his special theory of relativity (of E=MC2 fame) that inaugurated the atomic age in 1905, but for his discovery of the photoelectric effect (the hypothesis he proposed also in 1905 that electromagnetic radiation interacts with matter as if the radiation had a granular structure or particles).
Shortly thereafter, when Einstein’s reputation in academia waxed toward worldwide celebrity, no one could have presaged that in 1952 the newly established state of Israel would offer him the presidency, which he declined. That invitation, however, points out that he was not only perpetually engaged in the subtle mysteries of the universe but also as outspoken in the political arena as a Zionist who detested the Nazis’ rise to power, as a prophet who insisted that Jews make peace with Arabs, and as a pacifist, who, in his famous letter to President Roosevelt (1939), warned against the potential abuses of atomic energy, despite his support for the development of the A-bomb. Even days before his death on April 18, 1955, he wrote his last signed letter to the philosopher Bertrand Russell expressing his intention to sign a joint manifesto insisting that all nations renounce nuclear weapons. By then his brilliant mark on human history was as unquestionable as his unkempt hair was uniquely recognizable.
It is this larger-than-life Einstein who wrote the following essay on the proper relationship between science and religion, part one in 1939 and part two in 1941. It is also here in the latter part of the essay that we find his often quoted dictum, “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.” He wrote “Science and Religion” as a contribution to a symposium held in New York in 1941 on what roles science, philosophy, and religion played in the cause of American democracy. Thus, the essay recommends itself to the multi-disciplinary approach that Inquiry takes within the liberal arts program at Westminster.
Although Einstein read the Bible often, spoke quite freely about God, and was unapologetically religious, the essay discloses a religious disposition not quite like that of an ordinary religious person. He believed “in Spinoza’s God who reveals himself in the harmony of all that exists, but not in a God who concerns himself with the fate and actions of human beings” (Einstein Archive 33-272). Hence Einstein declared, “My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble minds. That deeply emotional conviction of the presence of a superior reasoning power, which is revealed in the incomprehensible universe, forms my idea of God” (quoted in the New York Times obituary, April 19, 1955). Furthermore, as the essay makes clear, Einstein’s emphasis on the moral and altruistic dimensions of religion was unequivocal: “Humanity has every reason to place the proclaimers of high moral standards and values above the discoverers of objective truth. What humanity owes to personalities like Buddha, Moses, and Jesus ranks for me higher than all the achievements of the inquiring constructive mind” (Dukas and Hoffmann, Albert Einstein, the Human Side, 70). Perhaps it is only ironically fitting that it is precisely the inquiring constructive mind of Einstein that destined him for the cover of Time and for an honored place among those rare spirits whose extraordinary genius and creativity punctuated and graced the progression of human history.
(Biographical information taken from Alice Calaprice’s The Quotable Einstein, 1996)
Essay on Science and Religion
Albert Einstein
PART I (1939)
During the last century, and part of the one before, it was widely held that there was an unreconcilable conflict between knowledge and belief. The opinion prevailed among advanced minds that it was time that belief should be replaced increasingly by knowledge; belief that did not itself rest on knowledge was superstition, and as such had to be opposed. According to this conception, the sole function of education was to open the way to thinking and knowing, and the school, as the outstanding organ for the people’s education, must serve that end exclusively.
One will probably find but rarely, if at all, the rationalistic standpoint expressed in such crass form; for any sensible man would see at once how one-sided is such a statement of the position. But it is just as well to state a thesis starkly and nakedly, if one wants to clear up one’s mind as to its nature.
It is true that convictions can best be supported with experience and clear thinking. On this point one must agree unreservedly with the extreme rationalist. The weak point of his conception is, however, this, that those convictions which are necessary and determinant for our conduct and judgments, cannot be found solely along this solid scientific way.
For the scientific method can teach us nothing else beyond how facts are related to, and conditioned by, each other. The aspiration toward such objective knowledge belongs to the highest of which man is capable, and you will certainly not suspect me of wishing to belittle the achievements and the heroic efforts of man in this sphere. Yet it is equally clear that knowledge of what is does not open the door directly to what should be. One can have the clearest and most complete knowledge of what is, and yet not be able to deduct from that what should be the goal of our human aspirations. Objective knowledge provides us with powerful instruments for the achievements of certain ends, but the ultimate goal itself and the longing to reach it must come from another source. And it is hardly necessary to argue for the view that our existence and our activity acquire meaning only by the setting up of such a goal and of corresponding values. The knowledge of truth as such is wonderful, but it is so little capable of acting as a guide that it cannot prove even the justification and the value of the aspiration towards that very knowledge of truth. Here we face, therefore, the limits of the purely rational conception of our existence.
But it must not be assumed that intelligent thinking can play no part in the formation of the goal and of ethical judgments. When someone realizes that for the achievement of an end certain means would be useful, the means itself becomes thereby an end. Intelligence makes clear to us the interrelation of means and ends. But mere thinking cannot give us a sense of the ultimate and fundamental ends. To make clear these fundamental ends and valuations, and to set them fast in the emotional life of the individual, seems to me precisely the most important function which religion has to perform in the social life of man. And if one asks whence derives the authority of such fundamental ends, since they cannot be stated and justified merely by reason, one can only answer: they exist in a healthy society as powerful traditions, which act upon the conduct and aspirations and judgments of the individuals; they are there, that is, as something living, without its being necessary to find justification for their existence. They come into being not through demonstration but through revelation, through the medium of powerful personalities. One must not attempt to justify them, but rather to sense their nature simply and clearly.
The highest principles for our aspirations and judgments are given to us in the Jewish- Christian religious tradition. It is a very high goal which, with our weak powers, we can reach only very inadequately, but which gives a sure foundation to our aspirations and valuations. If one were to take that goal out of its religious form and look merely at its purely human side, one might state it perhaps thus: free and responsible development of the individual, so that he may place his powers freely and gladly in the service of all mankind.
There is no room in this for the divinization of a nation, of a class, let alone of an individual. Are we not all children of one father, as it is said in religious language? Indeed, even the divinization of humanity, as an abstract totality, would not be in the spirit of that ideal. It is only to the individual that a soul is given. And the high destiny of the individual is to serve rather than to rule, or to impose himself in any other way.
If one looks at the substance rather than at the form, then one can take these words as expressing also the fundamental democratic position. The true democrat can worship his nation as little as can the man who is religious, in our sense of the term.
What, then, in all this, is the function of education and of the school? They should help the young person to grow up in such a spirit that these fundamental principles should be to him as the air which he breathes. Teaching alone cannot do that.
If one holds these high principles clearly before one’s eyes, and compares them with the life and spirit of our times, then it appears glaringly that civilized mankind finds itself at present in grave danger. In the totalitarian states it is the rulers themselves who strive actually to destroy that spirit of humanity. In less threatened parts it is nationalism and intolerance, as well as the oppression of the individuals by economic means, which threaten to choke these most precious traditions.
A realization of how great is the danger is spreading, however, among thinking people, and there is much search for means with which to meet the danger—means in the field of national and international politics, of legislation, of organization in general. Such efforts are, no doubt, greatly needed. Yet the ancients knew something which we seem to have forgotten. All means prove but a blunt instrument, if they have not behind them a living spirit. But if the longing for the achievement of the goal is powerfully alive within us, then shall we not lack the strength to find the means for reaching the goal and for translating it into deeds.
PART II (1941)
It would not be difficult to come to an agreement as to what we understand by science. Science is the century-old endeavor to bring together by means of systematic thought the perceptible phenomena of this world into as thorough-going an association as possible. To put it boldly, it is the attempt at the posterior reconstruction of existence by the process of conceptualization. But when asking myself what religion is I cannot think of the answer so easily. And even after finding an answer which may satisfy me at this particular moment I still remain convinced that I can never under any circumstances bring together, even to a slight extent, all those who have given this question serious consideration.
At first, then, instead of asking what religion is I should prefer to ask what characterizes the aspirations of a person who gives me the impression of being religious: A person who is religiously enlightened appears, to the best of his ability, liberated himself from the fetters of his selfish desires and is preoccupied with thoughts, feelings, and aspirations to which he clings because of their super-personal value. It seems to me that what is important is the force of this super-personal content and the depth of the conviction concerning its overpowering meaningfulness, regardless of whether any attempt is made to unite this content with a divine Being, for otherwise it would not be possible to count Buddha and Spinoza as religious personalities. Accordingly, a religious person is devout in the sense that he has no doubt of the significance and loftiness of those super-personal objects and goals which neither require nor are capable of rational foundation. They exist with the same necessity and matter-of- factness as he himself. In this sense religion is the age-old endeavor of mankind to become clearly and completely conscious of these values and goals and constantly to strengthen and extend their effect. If one conceives of religion and science according to these definitions then a conflict between them appears impossible. For science can only ascertain what is, but not what should be, and outside of its domain value judgments of all kinds remain necessary. Religion, on the other hand, deals only with evaluations of human thought and action: it cannot justifiably speak of facts and relationships between facts. According to this interpretation the well-known conflicts between religion and science in the past must all be ascribed to a misapprehension of the situation which has been described.
For example, a conflict arises when a religious community insists on the absolute truthfulness of all statements recorded in the Bible. This means an intervention on the part of religion into the sphere of science; this is where the struggle of the Church against the doctrines of Galileo and Darwin belongs. On the other hand, representatives of science have often made an attempt to arrive at fundamental judgments with respect to values and ends on the basis of scientific method, and in this way have set themselves in opposition to religion. These conflicts have all sprung from fatal errors.
Now, even though the realms of religion and science in themselves are clearly marked off from each other, nevertheless there exist between the two strong reciprocal relationships and dependencies. Though religion may be that which determines the goal, it has, nevertheless, learned from science, in the broadest sense, what means will contribute to the attainment of the goals it has set up. But science can only be created by those who are thoroughly imbued with the aspiration towards truth and understanding. This source of feeling, however, springs from the sphere of religion. To this there also belongs the faith in the possibility that the regulations valid for the world of existence are rational, that is, comprehensible to reason. I cannot conceive of a genuine scientist without that profound faith. The situation may be expressed by an image: Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.
Though I have asserted above that in truth a legitimate conflict between religion and science cannot exist I must nevertheless qualify this assertion once again on an essential point, with reference to the actual content of historical religions. This qualification has to do with the concept of God. During the youthful period of mankind’s spiritual evolution human fantasy created gods in man’s own image, who, by the operations of their will were supposed to determine, or at any rate to influence the phenomenal world. Man sought to alter the disposition of these gods in his own favor by means of magic and prayer. The idea of God in the religions taught at present is a sublimation of that old conception of the gods. Its anthropomorphic character is shown, for instance, by the fact that men appeal to the Divine Being in prayers and plead for the fulfillment of their wishes.
Nobody, certainly, will deny that the idea of the existence of an omnipotent, just and omnibeneficent personal God is able to accord man solace, help, and guidance; also, by virtue of its simplicity it is accessible to the most undeveloped mind. But, on the other hand, there are decisive weaknesses attached to this idea in itself, which have been painfully felt since the beginning of history. That is, if this being is omnipotent then every occurrence, including every human action, every human thought, and every human feeling and aspiration is also His work; how is it possible to think of holding men responsible for their deeds and thoughts before such an almighty Being? In giving out punishment and rewards He would to a certain extent be passing judgment on Himself. How can this be combined with the goodness and righteousness ascribed to Him?
The main source of the present-day conflicts between the spheres of religion and of science lies in this concept of a personal God. It is the aim of science to establish general rules which determine the reciprocal connection of objects and events in time and space. For these rules, or laws of nature, absolutely general validity is required—not proven. It is mainly a program, and faith in the possibility of its accomplishment in principle is only founded on partial successes. But hardly anyone could be found who would deny these partial successes and ascribe them to human self-deception. The fact that on the basis of such laws we are able to predict the temporal behavior of phenomena in certain domains with great precision and certainty is deeply embedded in the consciousness of the modern man, even though he may have grasped very little of the contents of those laws. He need only consider that planetary courses within the solar system may be calculated in advance with great exactitude on the basis of a limited number of simple laws. In a similar way, though not with the same precision, it is possible to calculate in advance the mode of operation of an electric motor, a transmission system, or of a wireless apparatus, even when dealing with a novel development.
To be sure, when the number of factors coming into play in a phenomenological complex is too large scientific method in most cases fails us. One need only think of the weather, in which case prediction even for a few days ahead is impossible. Nevertheless no one doubts that we are confronted with a causal connection whose causal components are in the main known to us. Occurrences in this domain are beyond the reach of exact prediction because of the variety of factors in operation, not because of any lack of order in nature.
We have penetrated far less deeply into the regularities obtaining within the realm of living things, but deeply enough nevertheless to sense at least the rule of fixed necessity. One need only think of the systematic order in heredity, and in the effect of poisons, as for instance alcohol, on the behavior of organic beings. What is still lacking here is a grasp of connections of profound generality, but not a knowledge of order in itself.
The more a man is imbued with the ordered regularity of all events the firmer becomes his conviction that there is no room left by the side of this ordered regularity for causes of a different nature. For him neither the rule of human nor the rule of divine will exists as an independent cause of natural events. To be sure, the doctrine of a personal God interfering with natural events could never be refuted, in the real sense, by science, for this doctrine can always take refuge in those domains in which scientific knowledge has not yet been able to set foot.
But I am persuaded that such behavior on the part of the representatives of religion would not only be unworthy but also fatal. For a doctrine which is able to maintain itself not in clear light but only in the dark, will of necessity lose its effect on mankind, with incalculable harm to human progress. In their struggle for the ethical good, teachers of religion must have the stature to give up the doctrine of a personal God, that is, give up that source of fear and hope which in the past placed such vast power in the hands of priests. In their labors they will have to avail themselves of those forces which are capable of cultivating the Good, the True, and the Beautiful in humanity itself. This is, to be sure, a more difficult but an incomparably more worthy task. After religious teachers accomplish the refining process indicated they will surely recognize with joy that true religion has been ennobled and made more profound by scientific knowledge.
If it is one of the goals of religion to liberate mankind as far as possible from the bondage of egocentric cravings, desires, and fears, scientific reasoning can aid religion in yet another sense. Although it is true that it is the goal of science to discover rules which permit the association and foretelling of facts, this is not its only aim. It also seeks to reduce the connections discovered to the smallest possible number of mutually independent conceptual elements. It is in this striving after the rational unification of the manifold that it encounters its greatest successes, even though it is precisely this attempt which causes it to run the greatest risk of falling a prey to illusions. But whoever has undergone the intense experience of successful advances made in this domain, is moved by profound reverence for the rationality made manifest in existence. By way of the understanding he achieves a far-reaching emancipation from the shackles of personal hopes and desires, and thereby attains that humble attitude of mind towards the grandeur of reason incarnate in existence, and which, in its profoundest depths, is inaccessible to man. This attitude, however, appears to me to be religious, in the highest sense of the word. And so it seems to me that science not only purifies the religious impulse of the dross of its anthropomorphism but also contributes to a religious spiritualization of our understanding of life.
The further the spiritual evolution of mankind advances, the more certain it seems to me that the path to genuine religiosity does not lie through the fear of life, and the fear of death, and blind faith, but through striving after rational knowledge. In this sense I believe that the priest must become a teacher if he wishes to do justice to his lofty educational mission.
Once upon a time in a small village, an old man spread a rumor that his neighbor was a thief. The accusation quickly circulated, and the young man was arrested. However, after a thorough investigation, the truth emerged—the young man was innocent. Though he was released, the damage had already been done. As he walked home, shame and humiliation clung to him like a heavy shadow. In pain and frustration, he took the old man to court for defamation.
In court, the old man defended himself, saying, “They were just comments. I didn’t mean any real harm.”
The judge paused and then said, “Before I pass judgment, I want you to do something. Write down everything you said about this young man on a piece of paper. Then cut the paper into small pieces, and on your way home, scatter them to the wind. Tomorrow, return for your sentence.”
The old man did as he was told. The next day, he stood before the judge once again.
“Before I deliver your sentence,” the judge said, “go out and gather every piece of paper you threw away yesterday.”
“But that’s impossible!” the old man protested. “The wind has carried them far and wide—I’ll never be able to get them all back.”
The judge nodded gravely. “Exactly. Just like those pieces of paper, your careless words have been scattered beyond recall. A few simple comments have the power to destroy a person’s honor and reputation—damage that can be nearly impossible to undo.”
The old man bowed his head in shame and asked for forgiveness.
This story speaks to a deep truth: our words, once spoken, can never be fully taken back.
Benjamin Franklin once said, “Fool’s hearts are in their mouths; wise men’s mouths are in their hearts.” These timeless words caution us against speaking recklessly. A wise person thinks carefully before they speak—choosing words with care, filtering emotion through understanding, and weighing their potential impact. Such restraint not only prevents misunderstandings and harm but also reflects emotional maturity and compassion.
Think more. Speak less.
In Buddhist teachings, this idea is beautifully echoed through the precepts on right speech. Practitioners are taught to be mindful of their word karma and to avoid four kinds of harmful speech:
Lying
Harsh speech
Divisive speech
Idle chatter
Each of these can sow seeds of suffering—for others and for ourselves.
Let’s remind ourselves daily: Be the master of your mouth, so you’re not a slave to your words.
Gossip can be more damaging than theft—it steals a person’s dignity, honor, and credibility, none of which are easy, or even possible, to restore. A wise saying puts it well: “When your feet slip, you can recover your balance. But when your tongue slips, you can never recover your words.”
Let us choose silence over harm, kindness over carelessness, and wisdom over impulse. Because our words, like our actions, carry the power to build—or break—the world around us.
In the Buddhist scriptures of China, a profound story is recorded—one that illuminates the immeasurable merit of a sincere offering.
Once, there was a poor girl who survived by begging. She often watched wealthy young ladies, accompanied by attendants, visit the temple to offer alms and perform good deeds. Seeing their generosity, she felt a deep yearning to cultivate merit but had nothing to give. Determined, she worked tirelessly to save whatever she could. After much effort, she managed to save a single coin. Though small in value, it represented all she had. With unwavering devotion, she took her humble offering to the temple.
The abbot, upon learning of her sincerity, was deeply moved. He gathered his disciples and announced, “Today, I will personally preside over the offering and pray for this devout laywoman!”
Not long after, an extraordinary turn of events unfolded.
After the queen of the land passed away, the grieving king sank into sorrow. To lift his spirits, his ministers organized a hunting expedition. As the royal party rode through the forest, the king noticed a shimmering light ahead. Curious, he approached and discovered a breathtakingly beautiful young woman. Though her clothes were tattered, she radiated an ethereal grace.
Captivated by her presence, the king brought her back to the palace. Before long, she became his new queen.
Overjoyed by her newfound fortune, she reflected on her past: “This must be the reward of my small act of generosity! I only donated one coin, yet it planted the seed for such incredible merit. Now that I have wealth, I should return to the temple to express my gratitude with a much grander offering!”
Determined to make a grand gesture, she dressed in the finest attire, adorned herself with jewels, and loaded dozens of carts with silver and gold for donation. As she approached the temple, she thought, “Before, when I gave only one coin, the abbot personally prayed for me. Now that I bring such vast riches, surely the reception will be even greater!”
Upon her arrival, she expected an elaborate welcome. Yet, to her surprise, only a few monks came to receive her offerings, and the rituals were conducted in the usual manner.
Perplexed, she approached an elderly monk and asked, “Why is it that when I was poor and donated a single coin, the abbot himself prayed for me? Yet today, when I bring such wealth, only a few monks perform the prayers?”
The monk smiled gently and replied, “At that time, your single coin was all you had. You gave it with pure devotion and joy, holding nothing back. Now, though you bring great wealth, it is but a fraction of your fortune, and your heart is tainted with pride. The true merit of an offering comes not from its size but from the sincerity of the giver’s heart.”
Shakyamuni Buddha taught that for a donation to generate immense benefit, it must possess three essential qualities:
Before Giving – A Joyful Heart True generosity begins with happiness. The donor should give not out of duty, pressure, or expectation of reward, but with a heart full of joy, seeing giving as an opportunity to cultivate virtue and compassion.
While Giving – A Clear and Sincere Mind The act of giving should be free from hesitation, regret, or pride. A pure offering is made with an open heart, solely for the benefit of others, without seeking recognition or return.
After Giving – A Sense of Fulfillment Once the offering is made, the giver should not feel regret or attachment. Instead, they should feel a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing they have planted seeds of merit for the future.
This story serves as a timeless lesson: It is not the amount we give that determines the merit of our offering, but the purity of our heart. A sincere and joyful offering—no matter how small—carries boundless blessings.
So the next time you give, remember: True generosity is not measured in gold or silver, but in the depth of your sincerity.
Many people say they have faith in Buddhism and therefore naturally regard themselves as Buddhists. However, these numerous Buddhists who regard themselves as having faith in Buddhism are at many levels and a mixture of true Buddhists and false ones and have all kinds of people in them. Among them, there are people who truly believe in Buddhism and have the correct faith, there are people who regard themselves as having the faith but really do not have the correct faith, some falsely claim to have the faith, and there are descendants of Mara Pipiyan who infiltrated into Buddhism to do damages. That is why the Buddhist world is full of chaos in this dharma-ending era. This situation requires true Buddhists and Buddhist disciples with the correct faith to open up their eyes to clearly distinguish what is true and what is false and determine what is right and what is wrong, in order to advance on the correct Bodhi path toward liberation and accomplishment without deviating aside.
Buddhist is a noun with broad meanings. Within the scope of this concept embodying a wide range of meanings, quite many people are really just “followers” or even “visitors paying the respect of burning incense.” Their knowledge about Buddhas and Bodhisattvas is just knowing the concept. They only have the so-called faith in Buddhism but have not taken refuge or made deep study or investigation. Basically, they are still invaded and corroded by the three poisons in their daily life, do things based on their own opinions, and do not cultivate or practice in accord with the Buddha’s teachings and warnings. When they go into temples to burn incense and pay respect, they beseech only rewards of good fortune in the current lifetime such as making big money in business, getting promotion or advancing to a position of power, happiness and harmony in family life, good health, and so on. Some of them cannot even tell the difference between Buddhism and Daoism and pay respect to deities and ghosts as well. That is absolutely a false faith in Buddhism without any understanding. Therefore, strictly speaking, such “Buddhist followers” really cannot be regarded as Buddhists.
There are also quite some Buddhists who, though having taken refuge in Buddhism, have not become clear about the approach of learning the absolute truth of Buddha-dharma and practice Buddha-dharma selectively as worldly ways. Some of them even have incorrect or evil knowledge and views. Their cultivation falls into superficiality and becomes a futile effort. They think that believing in Buddha’s existence and having taken refuge in Buddhism are the entirety of a Buddhist’s faith. Their faith in Buddhism is not a pure faith and is not an indestructibly firm faith. Their faith is a “faith that can be overpowered,” which can be easily shaken, overpowered, and abandoned. Their faith is an “intermittent faith.” They sometimes have faith and sometimes have doubt. A slight disturbance can cause them to generate doubt, enter into delusion, and lose confidence. Their faith has reversals and impediment and is not always clear and pure. This type of cause from such impure and contaminated faith definitely cannot bear wonderful fruit of accomplishment and liberation. This kind of faith has an extremely weak foundation and of course is not a true faith. Therefore, the refuge ceremony they have taken is just a formality and cannot represent a true faith in Buddhism.
One who does not have a true faith of course will not have a correct understanding and will not put the faith into action. Therefore, these people will not clearly believe in cause and effect and will not truly know impermanence, much less fear impermanence. Rather, they have deep and severe attachment to the self and always treat things related to them as important and having a higher priority than Buddhist work. They may even list conditions and offer deals to Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to ask Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to give them what they want first before doing Buddhist work. How can such cultivation and conduct receive protection and empowerment from Buddhas and Bodhisattvas? How can there be benefits and rewards from learning Buddhism to speak of? Thus, in today’s world, although countless people claim they have faith in Buddhism and cultivators of Buddhism are numerous and everywhere, very few of them can truly receive beneficial rewards. Instances of ending the cycle of birth and death are even rarer. Shouldn’t this situation cause the attention and vigilance of Buddhist disciples learning Buddhism?
The goal of believing in and learning Buddhism is for attaining liberation and accomplishment and becoming a holy one. Therefore, Buddhists questing for liberation and accomplishment should strive to plant and grow the cause of true faith to get the wonderful fruit of liberation and accomplishment and let themselves become veritable disciples of Buddhism with true faith and correct faith. Then, where does true and correct faith come from? Of course it comes from piously cultivating Buddhism through concrete steps. Buddhists with true and correct faith should believe in not only the Buddha’s real existence but also the Buddha’s teachings and precepts, develop strong power of vow from the inner mind to uphold, follow, and carry out the Buddha’s teaching, develop the power of determined faith to regard the principle of Buddha-dharma as the sole standard of selection and the guiding principle of conduct, and strictly and firmly act in accord with the teaching to generate the power of true faith from the inner mind. With such premise, we can establish the determination to cultivate Buddhism, clearly believe in cause and effect, diligently practice the ten actions of goodness and the four limited states of mind, and broadly cultivate the six paramitas through all acts. On the other hand, a person who is deeply plagued by heavy attachment to the self and only superficially obey Buddhas’ and Bodhisattvas’ teachings and precepts will never step onto the path of Bodhi toward liberation and accomplishment even after reading the Tripitaka exhaustively.
Therefore, disciples of Buddhism who truly intend to cultivate Buddhism to attain liberation and accomplishment have to become Buddhist disciples in the holy sense with true faith and real cultivation. Buddhist disciples in the holy sense are in true correspondence with the Buddha’s teaching and the purpose of learning Buddha-dharma and can thoroughly see the true such-ness of mind nature. Such is the meaning of the holy sense. To possess the status of the holy sense, Buddhist disciples must concurrently pursue progress in all three aspects of Buddhism. Only by advancing in all three aspects coherently as a whole can one be regarded as a Buddhist disciple in the holy sense. These three aspects are: the teaching of Buddhism, the study of Buddhism, and Buddha-dharma. Moreover, the three aspects must be combined perfectly to comprise one entity.
The teaching of Buddhism includes the Buddha’s teaching that has been transmitted through the time and historical facts about Buddhism. Among them, there are true events of the Buddha, historical backgrounds, records of the origin and propagation of Buddha-dharma, karmic conditions related to expounding specific dharmas, references and publications of the dharma expounded by the Buddha, rules of Buddhism, and so on. The study of Buddhism refers to Buddhist scriptures, the origin, development, and timeline of Buddhist sects and schools, and the principles and philosophy within Buddha-dharma; all are investigated theoretically using the method of academic research. Buddha-dharma is the special dharma gates transmitted from the Buddha that can enable cultivators transcend the mundane world and enter holiness, methods to lead one into the practice toward liberation and to break away from mundane attachments, including mantras, visualization, mudras, mandala, dharma instrument, the three secret practices of body, speech, and mind, and utilization of the power of siddhi (accomplishment) within the dharma sphere.
It is true that becoming a Buddhist disciple in the holy sense is not easy. However, that is the goal that every Buddhist disciple must pursue and also the only path of cultivating Buddhism toward liberation and accomplishment. Moreover, achieving that goal requires a pious devotion toward the Buddha, focusing the mind on goodness, and pure cultivation of one’s body, speech, and mind.
There is only one way to achieve that goal. That is, taking the dharmas of the Contemplating the Magnificence of Perfect Prerequisite Oceanic Mind Essence and the Most Magnificent Bodhi Dakini Oceanic Mind Essence in the Supreme and Unsurpassable Mahamudra of Liberation and What Is Cultivation expounded by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III as the guiding compass for absolutely correct cultivation, earnestly learning from and studying the dharma Expounding the Absolute Truth through the Heart Sutra expounded by H.H.Dorje Chang Buddha III, and diligently listening to the recorded supreme dharma lessons expounded by H.H.Dorje Chang Buddha III.
Due to our rewards of good fortune accumulated through many lifetimes and eons, we live in this era with H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III’s presence. Additionally, we also have the magnificent karmic conditions that allow us to closely follow H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III in learning Buddhism. We can listen with our own ears the recorded dharma lessons expounded by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III and respectfully beseech the treasure books with dharmas expounded by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Moreover, many Buddhist disciples among us have personally received initiations transmitted by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III in person. How lucky and fortunate we are! What reason do we have for not diligently learning Buddhism and cultivating ourselves! We must make our vow to become a one-hundred-percent Buddhist cultivator with true faith and correct faith and strive to be Buddhist disciple in the holy sense with clear and pure cultivation. We must attain liberation and accomplishment in the current lifetime! Amitabha!
Perry Garfinkel embarks on a spiritual journey, blending Jewish roots with Gandhi’s transformative principles in ‘Becoming Gandhi.’
Perry Garfinkel, a longtime contributor to the New York Times and author of four books, has spent a lifetime seeking the deeper meaning of truth. In his latest book, Becoming Gandhi, he embarks on a spiritual journey to embody Gandhi’s principles. His unconventional path to this project bridges the values of his Jewish upbringing, his career in journalism, and his exploration of Gandhi’s teachings.
“What’s a nice Jewish boy doing writing about a Hindu icon?” Garfinkel joked during an interview. Beneath the humor, however, lies a profound question about faith, identity, and the search for common ground.
Born on Staten Island, a borough of NYC, but having lived briefly in Queens, Garfinkel has roots that trace back to a Jewish family from Queens, New York. He grew up in West Orange, New Jersey, and attended High Holy Day services with his grandfather, Moe Garfinkel, at the Queens Jewish Center in Queens Village. Religion was a pillar of his childhood, but something always felt missing.
“I never felt the heart of Judaism,” he said. “I wanted to taste it, but it felt out of reach.”
This sense of spiritual longing led Garfinkel beyond his roots. In his twenties, he traveled to India, where he encountered Hinduism and Buddhism. Garfinkel’s experiences sparked a fascination with spiritual practices that would shape his life.
“I’m a spiritual expeditionary,” he said. “I’ve always been searching for the truth—something that connects us all.”
His journey took a significant turn when his literary agent suggested he write about Gandhi. At the time, Garfinkel was coming off the success of Buddha or Bust, a national bestselling book documenting his exploration of Buddhism. The suggestion to focus on Gandhi intrigued him.
“I’ve been visiting India since 2003,” he explained. “Gandhi is everywhere—his quotes are on walls, his statues are in the streets. But I wanted to go deeper than the surface.”
The result was Becoming Gandhi, a book in which Garfinkel challenged himself to live by six of Gandhi’s core principles: truth, nonviolence, vegetarianism, simplicity, faith, and celibacy. Each principle posed unique challenges and taught him invaluable lessons.
“Truth was the hardest,” he admitted. “You look in the mirror and ask, ‘What is my truth?’ It’s like chasing mercury—you try to hold it, and it moves.”
Nonviolence tested him in different ways. In a world filled with conflict, war, and violence in entertainment, staying true to Gandhi’s vision of peace was no small task. “We’re bombarded by violence in so many forms,” he said. “How do we filter that out and choose something better?”
As he immersed himself in Gandhi’s teachings, Garfinkel found his thoughts returning to his Jewish identity. Gandhi himself had a deep interest in other religions, including Judaism. “He read the Old Testament, the New Testament, and the Quran,” Garfinkel said. “That openness inspired me to revisit my faith with fresh eyes.”
Perry Garfinkel interviews Ela Gandhi, granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi and former member of Parliament in South Africa, in Durban.
Garfinkel had begun to re-identify his Jewish roots, working for about six years as media manager for the Jewish Community Federation of San Francisco. But through Gandhi, Garfinkel found a way to reinterpret Judaism’s role in his life. “Judaism gave me a foundation,” he explained. “But Gandhi provided new ways to think about it. He showed me that being rooted in your tradition doesn’t mean closing yourself to other perspectives. Instead, it can enrich your understanding.”
Perry Garfinkel interviews Ela Gandhi, granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi and former member of Parliament in South Africa, in Durban.
Not all of Gandhi’s principles were easy for Garfinkel to adopt. Vegetarianism, for example, was particularly challenging for someone raised in a “meat and potatoes” family.
“I grew up on steak, corned beef, and other deli meats,” he said. “Giving that up wasn’t easy.” Eventually, he found a middle ground. “I call it tapering—gradually cutting back rather than going cold turkey. It’s about finding balance and making it sustainable.”
Beyond the personal challenges, Gandhi’s approach to global issues also led to deep reflection for Garfinkel. Gandhi’s decision to write letters to Adolf Hitler, addressing him as “Dear Friend,” struck many as naive or even offensive. Garfinkel, however, saw another perspective.
“Gandhi wasn’t trying to excuse Hitler’s actions,” he explained. “He attempted to model moral behavior, even when it seemed futile. His letters weren’t really for Hitler but for the rest of us. They were a reminder of what it means to stand for peace, even when the world is falling apart.”
For Garfinkel, the Holocaust added another layer to this complex discussion. His grandmother fled Poland before the worst atrocities, but many relatives were not so fortunate. “The Holocaust is personal for me,” he said. “It’s part of my identity as a Jew and a writer. Balancing that history with Gandhi’s message of forgiveness and nonviolence has been one of the hardest parts of this journey.”
Through his writing, Garfinkel bridges his Jewish heritage with his spiritual explorations, demonstrating that the two are not in opposition but in harmony. “Being Jewish and open to other traditions aren’t contradictory,” he said. “They’re complementary. They deepen your understanding of who you are.”
Today, Garfinkel continues to write and reflect, encouraging others to embark on their journeys of self-discovery. Gandhi’s message is simple but profound: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
For Garfinkel, change begins with understanding—of oneself, one’s traditions, and the connections that bind us all. His work encourages others to reflect on their identity and potential by adopting some of Gandhi’s principles.
About the Author: Gregory Lyakhov is a sixteen-year-old high school student from New York with a passion for politics and law. He has been fascinated by government from an early age and aspires to be involved one day. Outside of politics, you’ll often find him running, swimming, or enjoying Pickleball and snowboarding. Join him on his journey of exploration!
Generosity is an altruistic intention that brings joy to sentient beings and delight to all Buddhas. It involves considering others and giving up one’s own body, life, and possessions, even extending to the giving of the Dharma. In the very act of giving, one not only eliminates the habitual tendency of stinginess but also helps others overcome their difficulties. At the same time, one attains joy and freedom through a pure, selfless mind.
In Buddhist practice, generosity is the first of the six Pāramitās (perfections) that guide practitioners on the path to enlightenment. The Buddha teaches that acts of giving bring five kinds of merits:
Longevity without misfortune.
A dignified and pleasant appearance.
Abundant energy and strength.
Joy and freedom from worries.
Wisdom and eloquence.
However, the intention behind giving is crucial. The thoughts and mindset of the giver determine the outcomes of their actions. The Buddha provided profound insight into this during a conversation with Venerable Sāriputta.
The Conversation Between the Buddha and Sāriputta
One time, Venerable Sāriputta asked Shakyamuni Buddha for clarification about the practice of generosity:
“Lord, is it possible that one person may give a gift of a certain kind, and it yields little fruit, while another gives the same kind of gift and yet it yields great fruit and benefit?”
The Blessed One replied, “Yes, Sāriputta, it is possible that a person may give a gift of a certain kind, and it does not bear great fruit, while another person gives the same kind of gift and it bears great fruit and benefit.”
“But Lord, what is the cause and reason for this difference? Why does one person’s gift bring small results while another’s yields much greater rewards, even when the gifts are of the same kind?”
The Blessed One explained, “Sāriputta, there are cases where a person gives a gift with a mind seeking personal profit, attached to the reward, hoping to enjoy it in the afterlife. Such a person may offer food, drink, clothing, vehicles, garlands, perfumes, ointments, bedding, shelter, or lamps to a contemplative or a brahmin. What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give a gift with such intentions?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta replied.
The Blessed One continued, “When such a person gives with a mind seeking personal gain, they may be reborn in the realm of the Four Great Kings. But after the results of that action are exhausted, they return to this world.
“However, there is another person who gives a gift not for personal profit, nor with a mind attached to the reward, but with the thought, ‘Giving is good.’ This person offers the same kinds of gifts to a contemplative or a brahmin. What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give in this way?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta affirmed.
“Such a person, on the break-up of the body after death, is reborn among the Devas of the Thirty-three. But once the result of that action has been exhausted, they, too, return to this world.
“Or a person may give with the thought, ‘This has been the custom of my family, handed down from my ancestors. I must uphold this tradition.’ When they pass away, they are reborn among the Devas of the Hours. Again, after the results of that action are exhausted, they return to this world.
“Alternatively, a person may give with the thought, ‘I am well-off, while others are not. It is only right that I share with those who have less.’ They are reborn among the Contented Devas, but eventually, they return to this world as well.
“Another person might give with the thought, ‘Just as the great sages of the past, such as Aṭṭhaka, Vāmaka, and others performed great sacrifices, so too will I distribute my gifts in this way.’ Upon death, they are reborn among the Devas who Delight in Creation, yet eventually return to this world.
“Or one may give a gift with the thought, ‘Giving brings serenity and joy to my mind.’ Such a person is reborn among the Devas Wielding Power over the Creations of Others. Still, after their merit is exhausted, they return.
“Finally, there is the person who gives not for future rewards, not out of custom, and not out of wealth or tradition, but with the thought, ‘This act of giving is an adornment and support for the mind.’ What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give in this way?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta answered.
The Blessed One said, “This person, upon the break-up of the body, is reborn among Brahmā’s Retinue. Having exhausted the results of their action, they do not return to this world but attain the state of non-return.
“This, Sāriputta, is the reason why one person’s gift may not bear great fruit, while another’s gift of the same kind may yield great fruit and benefit.”
The True Essence of Generosity
Generosity is not merely about the act of giving but also about the intention and mindset behind it. When one practices the virtue of giving with constant joy and unwavering determination, one cultivates all virtuous merits, attains pure samadhi, and gains clarity of insight. This clarity allows one to fully comprehend the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to liberation and happiness.
Therefore, one should always strive diligently and practice various virtuous deeds of giving, remembering that the purity of the heart and mind in the act of generosity determines its ultimate value and benefit—both for oneself and for the world.
Yang Jiang, my favorite contemporary female writer, lived a life intertwined with the turbulence of her times, yet she remained as pure and free as a cloud in the sky. Her works not only reveal the beauty of literature but also inspire us on how to maintain inner peace and composure amidst the chaos of the world.
Yang Jiang’s translation of the poem, “I compete with no one, and I disdain competing with anyone; I warm my hands by the fire of life, and when it dims, I am ready to go,” reflects her entire life. In her quiet dignity and grace, she transformed the hardships of life into something serene and beautiful, never letting bitterness take root.
Her unassuming nature is perhaps her most remarkable quality. While many chase after fame and recognition, Yang Jiang focused purely on her love for knowledge. Her reading, writing, and translation work were not for the sake of recognition, but for the joy of learning. In her essay “The Invisibility Cloak,” she explains that humility is the best protection in a complicated world. By not seeking heights, one doesn’t fear falling; by avoiding ambition, one retains a sense of innocence and inner calm. Yang Jiang embodied this wisdom throughout her life. During the Cultural Revolution, when she was assigned the humbling task of cleaning toilets, she used the opportunity to find freedom in adversity, relishing the quiet moments to read and reflect.
Yang Jiang and her husband Qian ZhongShu
“Simple living and a noble soul are the highest realms of life,” she once said. This was not just a belief but a guiding principle for Yang Jiang. She valued her time deeply, distancing herself from superficial socializing and instead focusing on self-cultivation. Together with her husband, Qian Zhongshu, they shared a simple, intellectual life, each respecting the other’s need for space and quiet to work. After her husband’s passing, Yang Jiang withdrew even further from the world, spending her days immersed in writing and editing.
At the age of 92, Yang Jiang published her essay collection We Three, which received widespread acclaim. Even at the age of 103, she was still active in compiling and publishing The Complete Works of Yang Jiang, a reflection of her lifelong dedication to literature.
It was her ability to remove herself from the distractions of life that allowed her to create works of such lasting value.
Her translation of the eight-volume Don Quixote, once the best-selling Chinese version, drew criticism at one point as a “negative example.” Many writers rushed to her defense, but Yang Jiang responded with characteristic humility: “I sincerely declare that I am a humble translator. I have revised my translation over and over, and still feel it’s not good enough. I hope the experts will offer their guidance.” Her modesty and openness to improvement reflect the calm confidence she carried throughout her life.
In her book Walking on the Edge of Life, she wrote, “We once yearned for the waves of fate, only to realize in the end that the most beautiful scenery in life is the inner calm and composure.” This sentence captures the essence of her wisdom. She knew that, amid the noise and complexity of the outside world, it is the peace we cultivate within that is the most precious.
Yang Jiang rarely wore makeup, preferring to show her natural face to the world. This was not just about simplicity in appearance but about a deeper confidence and acceptance of her true self. She believed that external beauty was far less important than the richness of one’s inner life. As she wisely said, “A woman’s greatest strength is not how beautifully she dresses, but the ability to make herself happy no matter what happens.”
Through her life, Yang Jiang has shown us that even in the face of life’s greatest challenges, it is possible to maintain elegance and beauty by nurturing simplicity and inner richness. Her wisdom and grace continue to inspire us to live with quiet strength, away from the distractions of the world, focused on what truly matters.
When I was a child, I read The Three Character Classic (三字经) and came across a verse: “Dou Yanshan, of righteous conduct, taught five sons, all became famous.” At the time, I didn’t realize how much meaning was packed into these simple lines. Later, I learned that they tell a profound story. Dou Yanshan’s life and deeds provide undeniable proof of the law of cause and effect, offering a timeless moral lesson for the world. I would like to share Dou Yanshan’s story with you.
Dou Yujun, also known as Yanshan due to his home in Youzhou (part of the Yan region), lived during the Later Jin period of the Five Dynasties. He lost his father at a young age, and was raised solely by his mother, to whom he showed deep filial respect, never daring to disobey her. At that time, most men married in their twenties, and by the age of thirty, if they had no children, they would worry about their lineage. Dou Yujun, still childless in his thirties, was deeply concerned about his future.
One night, Dou had a dream where his deceased grandfather appeared and said, “Yujun, your past life’s negative karma is heavy, which is why in this life, you are not only childless but also destined for a short life. My dear grandson, turn your heart toward goodness. Perform acts of kindness and help others. Perhaps by doing so, you may change your fate.” Upon waking, Dou remembered every word of his grandfather’s message. From that moment, he vowed to avoid all evil and pursue only good deeds.
One example of his kindness involved a servant who had stolen twenty thousand taels of silver. Fearing punishment, the servant wrote a bond stating that he was selling his young daughter to repay the debt and then fled. When Dou discovered this, instead of punishing the girl, he burned the bond and raised her as his own. When she grew up, he even arranged a marriage for her, providing a dowry.
On New Year’s Day, Dou went to Yanqing Temple to pray and found 200 taels of silver and 30 taels of gold near a meditation cushion. Believing it to be someone’s lost property, he waited in the temple for the owner to return. After some time, a man arrived, crying in distress. Dou asked him what was wrong, and the man explained, “My father has been captured by bandits, and after much effort, I gathered 200 taels of silver and 30 taels of gold to ransom him. But now I’ve lost everything!” Dou, realizing this man was the rightful owner, returned all the silver and gold and even gave him additional travel money. The man left, filled with gratitude.
Dou Yujun was known for his many acts of kindness. When friends or relatives couldn’t afford coffins for their deceased, he provided them. When children of poor families had no means to marry, he paid for their weddings. He lent money to those in need so they could start businesses, helping countless people survive. Despite his generosity, Dou lived a frugal life. Each year, after setting aside the necessary expenses for his family, he used the rest of his income to help others. He even established forty schools, collected thousands of books, and hired teachers of high moral character to educate the youth. He paid the tuition of poor students, helping cultivate many outstanding individuals.
One night, Dou had another dream in which his grandfather appeared again, saying, “You have done many good deeds. Because of your great virtue, Heaven has extended your life by thirty-six years and will bless you with five noble sons, all of whom will achieve great success. When your time comes, you will ascend to Heaven.” His grandfather added, “The law of cause and effect is absolute. The consequences of good and evil deeds may appear in this life, in the next, or in the lives of your descendants. Heaven’s justice is unerring.”
After this, Dou Yujun continued to cultivate virtue with even greater diligence. Eventually, he had five sons, and due to his strict and righteous upbringing, they were all disciplined, harmonious, and filial. All five sons passed the imperial examinations and achieved high positions: his eldest, Dou Yi, became a Minister of State; his second, Dou Yan, became a Hanlin Academician; his third, Dou Cheng, served as Deputy Prime Minister; his fourth, Dou Kan, was an Imperial Chronicler; and his youngest, Dou Xi, became Assistant to the Minister of the Left. Even his eight grandsons achieved prominence. To honor Dou’s achievements, the imperial official Feng Dao wrote a poem: “Yanshan’s Dou family, with righteous teachings, raised five sons, all blossoming like red laurels.”
Dou himself lived to the age of eighty-two. He predicted the time of his passing, bid farewell to his friends, bathed, dressed in clean clothes, and passed away peacefully.
The law of cause and effect is undeniable. Whether the consequences of good deeds are seen in this life, in the lives of one’s descendants, or in future reincarnations, they are inevitable. Dou Yujun not only enjoyed a long life and wealth, but his descendants also prospered, and his peaceful death is a testament to the blessings awaiting him in his next life. His vast and profound kindness brought him blessings in this life, in the lives of his descendants, and in the afterlife.
The renowned Song Dynasty scholar, Fan Zhongyan, used Dou Yujun’s story to teach his own children about the importance of good deeds, leading to the prosperity of the Fan family. While many people knew about Dou Yujun’s deeds, few truly acted on them. It is like entering a treasure mountain and leaving empty-handed. What a missed opportunity that would be!
Peace LiLy 