In the Tang Dynasty, there was a peculiar Zen master. He didn’t even have a Dharma name, and his practice was very special. He did not live in a temple. He settled himself in an awning like a bird nest on the top of a pine tree. People called him “the Zen Master of the Birdsnest”. Many visitors hiked to the remote forest to seek the monk’s wise advices.
Bai Juyi, was a very famous Chinese poet, also a high level officer at that time. One time, Bai Juyi traveled long distance to visit the Zen Master. He asked Zen Master Birdsnest, “Can you tell me what is the most important thing the Buddha ever said?”
The Zen master replied, “Don’t do any bad things, and do all the good things.”
Bai Juyi thought this answer is far too simple, he sneered, “Even a three-year-old can say this.”
Zen Master Birdsnest said: “Although a three-year-old child can say it, but an eighty-year-old man still finds it very difficult to do it.”
Master Qinluan was a famous Japanese Zen master. At the age of nine, he made up his mind to become a monk and asked Zen Master Cizhen to shave his ordination for him. Zen Master Cizhen asked him, “Why do you want to become a monk when you are so young?” Qinluan said: “Although I am only nine years old, my parents have both died. I don’t understand why people must die. Why must I be separated from my parents? Therefore, I must become a monk and explore these truths.”
Zen Master Cizhen said: “Very well. I’m willing to accept you as a disciple. However, it’s too late today, so I’ll shave you tomorrow morning.” Qin Luan said, “Master! Although you said that you will shave me early tomorrow morning, I am still young and ignorant. I can’t guarantee whether my determination to become a monk will last until tomorrow. Besides, Master, you are so old, you can’t guarantee that you will even wake up tomorrow morning!” After listening this words, Zen Master Cizhen was surprisingly happy, and said joyfully, “Yes! What you said is absolutely right. Now I will shave for you!”
Three Moves by Mencius’s Mother
Mencius, was a famous scholar well-known for his erudition. He was one of the greatest representatives of Confucianism in ancient China.
He had a great mother, who really focused on education. Once his family lived near a graveyard when he was a child. Therefore, he often played near the grave and imitated people’s crying or digging the tombs. When his mother saw this, she said: “It’s not a good place for a child to live in.”
His mother moved the family to a house near a market. Soon Mencius began to amused himself by imitating peddler’s hawking and bargaining. His mother found this place still not good for a child to live in. She decided to move away again.
At last they settled down near a school. Mencius quickly began copying the students’ reading and writing. He also took pleasure by imitating the sacrificial rites on ceremony and formalities of courtesy. He became more polite and hardworking. Then his mother said: this is a good place for a child !.
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.
An old Chinese saying goes: Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Kindness has the power to bring happiness, peace and good fortune. The heroic Army General Eisenhower’s story is a great testimony of this ancient and eternal law: what goes around comes around.
How one small act of kindness, changed the path of history! The historic victory of World War II might have had to have been rewritten, if it was without this single good deed, performed by a single man, the heroic Army General, Eisenhower.
One day, during the horrific throngs of World War II, Lieutenant General Dwight David Eisenhower of the Allied Forces was returning to France, to attend an emergency military conference.
That day, the snow was dense, the air was cold. And his car was urgently speeding to its destination. On the dimly lit path, Eisenhower suddenly saw an old couple sitting at the side of the road, shivering in the freezing cold.
Mr. Eisenhower immediately stopped the car and told the officer beside him to get out of the car and speak with them. An officer, another passenger in the car, immediately argued that, “General, we must be on time for the meeting at the Head office, please leave it to the local police.” Eisenhower knew that his concern for their punctuality was just an excuse not to help.
The General, however, was resolved to get out of the car at once to attend to the desperate elderly couple. He said to his staff, “If we wait for the local police to come, they will be dead before the police arrive!”
He found out that they were on the way to visit their son in Paris. But their car had broken down in the middle of their journey. In the thick snow they could not see anyone to ask for help from; they did not know what to do.
After learning of their plight, Mr. Eisenhower, without any hesitation, immediately invited them to get into the car. He offered them the gracious favor of delivering them to their son’s home in Paris, before heading back to the Head Office himself.
At the time, Eisenhower, the commander of the Allied Forces offered this kindness merely out of his own good will, disregarding his position as well as any complication that could affect the mission he was shouldering.
However, the intelligence received after that night, shocked everybody in the car, especially the officer who had tried to prevent the detour.
It turned out, that Nazi snipers had been placed along their route in an attempt to ambush and assassinate them on their way to Head Office.
Hitler was certain that, that day would have been the last day of the Allied commander, but his plan failed unexpectedly, which made him suspicious of the gathered intelligence. Hitler was unaware that it was the rescue of the elderly couple that had led Eisenhower to take another route.
34th President of the United States, Dwight D. Eisenhower. (Wikipedia/ James Anthony Wills)
Historians have commented that Eisenhower’s good deed that day saved him, almost certainly, from an assassination. Without his moral actions, the history of the World War II might have been quite different indeed.
It is in the small kindnesses that we show to one another, that may appear small and insignificant at first, that we find the truth of our fate. Within these actions, lies the power to write and rewrite history.
According to traditional culture, the more consideration we show for others and the stronger the goodwill we have towards them, the better our destiny, and the more blessings we have bestowed upon us.
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.
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.
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.”
Once upon a time, there were two very good friends who lived together in the shade of a rock. Strange as it may seem, one was a lion and one was a tiger. They had met when they were too young to know the difference between lions and tigers. So they did not think their friendship was at all unusual. Besides, it was a peaceful part of the mountains, possibly due to the influence of a gentle forest monk who lived nearby. He was a hermit, one who lives far away from other people.
For some unknown reason, one day the two friends got into a silly argument. The tiger said, “Everyone knows the cold comes when the moon wanes from full to new!” The lion said, “Where did you hear such nonsense? Everyone knows the cold comes when the moon waxes from new to full!”
The argument got stronger and stronger. Neither could convince the other. They could not reach any conclusion to resolve the growing dispute. They even started calling each other names! Fearing for their friendship, they decided to go ask the learned forest monk, who would surely know about such things.
Visiting the peaceful hermit, the lion and tiger bowed respectfully and put their question to him. The friendly monk thought for a while and then gave his answer. “It can be cold in any phase of the moon, from new to full and back to new again. It is the wind that brings the cold, whether from west or north or east. Therefore, in a way, you are both right! And neither of you is defeated by the other. The most important thing is to live without conflict, to remain united. Unity is best by all means.”
The lion and tiger thanked the wise hermit. They were happy to still be friends.
The moral is: Weather comes and weather goes, but friendship remains.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Once upon a time, there was a herd of forest deer. In this herd was a wise and respected teacher, cunning in the ways of deer. He taught the tricks and strategies of survival to the young fawns.
One day, his younger sister brought her son to him, to be taught what is so important for deer. She said, “Oh brother teacher, this is my son. Please teach him the tricks and strategies of deer.” The teacher said to the fawn, “Very well, you can come at this time tomorrow for your first lesson.”
The young deer came to the lessons as he was supposed to. When others cut classes to spend all day playing, he remained and paid attention to the good teacher. He was well-liked by the other young bucks and does, but he only played when his class work was complete. Being curious to learn, he was always on time for the lessons. He was also patient with the other students, knowing that some learn more quickly than others. He respected the teacher deer for his knowledge, and was grateful for his willingness to share it.
One day, the fawn stepped in a trap in the forest and was captured. He cried out in great pain. This frightened the other fawns, who ran back to the herd and told his mother. She was terrified, and ran to her brother the teacher. Trembling with fear, crying big tears, she said to him, “Oh my dear brother, have you heard the news that my son has been trapped by a hunter’s snare? How can I save my little child’s life? Did he study well in your presence?”
Her brother said, “My sister, don’t be afraid. I have no doubt he will be safe. He studied hard and always did his very best. He never missed a class and always paid attention. Therefore, there is no need to have doubt or pain in your heart. He will not be hurt by any human being. Don’t worry. I am confident he will return to you and make you happy again. He has learned all the tricks and strategies used by deer to cheat the hunters. So be patient. He will return!”
Meanwhile, the trapped fawn was thinking, “All my friends were afraid and ran away. There is no one to help me get out of this deadly trap. Now I must use the tricks and strategies I learned from the wise teacher who taught so well.”
The deer strategy he decided to use was the one called, “playing dead.” First, he used his hoofs to dig up the dirt and grass, to make it look like he had tried very hard to escape. Then he relieved his bowels and released his urine, because this is what happens when a deer is caught in a trap and dies in very great fear. Next, he covered his body with his own saliva.
Lying stretched out on his side, he held his body rigidly and stiffened his legs out straight. He turned up his eyes, and let his tongue hang out of the side of his mouth. He filled his lungs with air and puffed out his belly. Finally, with his head leaning on one side, he breathed through the nostril next to the ground, not through the upper one.
Lying motionless, he looked so much like a stiff corpse that flies flew around him, attracted by the awful smells. Crows stood nearby waiting to eat his flesh.
Before long it was early morning and the hunter came to inspect his traps. Finding the fawn who was playing dead, he slapped the puffed up belly and found it stiff. Seeing the flies and the mess he thought, “Ah, it has already started to stiffen. He must have been trapped much earlier this morning. No doubt the tender meat is already starting to spoil. I will skin and butcher the carcass right here, and carry the meat home.”
Since he completely believed the deer was dead, he removed and cleaned the trap, and began spreading leaves to make a place to do the butchering. Realizing he was free, the fawn suddenly sprang to his feet. He ran like a little cloud blown by a swift wind, back to the comfort and safety of his mother. The whole herd celebrated his survival, thanks to learning so well from the wise teacher.
The moral is: Well-learned lessons bring great rewards.
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.”
Peace LiLy 