
06 May “Let me tell you a story” (JORGE BUCAY)
Buddha was making a pilgrimage around the world so that he might meet those who called themselves his disciples and talk to them about the truth.
Throughout the course of his journey, those people who believed his words came in droves to hear him speak, touch him, or see him for what would surely be the only time in their lives.
So four monks who knew that Buddha would be in the city of Vaali loaded their belongings onto mules and set off on a journey that, if all went well, would take them several weeks to make.
One of them didn’t know the way to Vaali very well, and so he followed the others along the way.
After three days’ traveling they were suddenly caught in a huge storm. The monks hurried on their way and reached a town where they sought refuge until the storm passed.
But the slowest one didn’t make It to the town and had to ask for shelter in the house of a shepherd on the outskirts of town. The shepherd gave him shelter, a roof over his head and food for the night.
The following morning, when the monk was about to leave, he went to bid farewell to the shepherd. On approaching the barn, he saw that that storm had scared the sheep and the shepherd was trying to gather them.
The monk realized that that his brothers must already be on their way out of town, and that if he didn’t make his way soon, he’d be too far behind to catch up. But he couldn’t carry on his way, abandoning the shepherd to his fate after he’d given him refuge. So he decided to stay and help him until he’d gathered all of his sheep once more.
In the end it took three days, after which time he set off once more, picking up his pace in an attempt to catch up to his fellow monks.
Following the others’ tracks, he stopped at a farm to replenish his water supply.
A woman pointed to where the well was and apologized, saying she would not be able to help him because she had to keep harvesting her crops. As the monk watered his mules and filled his wineskins with water, the woman told him that, since the death of her husband, it had been very difficult for her and her children to harvest all the crops before they began to spoil.
The man realized that the woman would never be able to get in the harvest in time, but he also knew that if he stayed, he’d lose his brothers’ tracks and not make it to Vaali for the Buddha’s arrival in the city.
“Oh well, I shall see him in a few days,” he thought, knowing that the Buddha would be spending several weeks in Vaali.
The harvest took three weeks and, as soon as he’d finished, the monk set off on his journey once more.
On his way, he learned that the Buddha was no longer in Vaali, and that he’d set off for a town farther north.
So the monk changed direction and began to make his way to the new town.
He might have gotten there, even if only in time to see him, but on the way he had to save an old couple from being dragged down the river in the current, and without his help they would have surely died. Once the old couple had convalesced he set off yet again, knowing that the Buddha was still on his way…
Twenty years this monk spent, following the Buddha’s trail. And every time he got near, something would come up and delay his journey. There was always someone who needed his help and unwittingly made it so that the monk could never arrive on time.
Finally he heard that the Buddha had decided to return to the city where he was born, this time to die.
“This is my last chance,” he said to himself. “If I don’t want to die without having seen the Buddha, I can’t let myself be sidetracked any more. Nothing is more important now than seeing the Buddha before he dies. There will be plenty of time to help others later on.” And so, with his last mule and his few meager possessions, he set off once more.
On the eve before he arrived in town he nearly tripped over an injured deer in the road.
He tended to it, gave it water to drink and covered its wounds with fresh mud. The deer was at death’s door, trying to breathe and struggling more and more for air.
“Someone should stay with him,” he thought, “so that I can carry on my way.
But there was no one in sight.
With great tenderness, he gently placed the animal down beside some rocks so that he might continue his journey, left water and food within reach of the deer’s muzzle, and got up to leave.
He’d only taken two steps when he suddenly realized that he could never appear before the Buddha knowing, deep down in his heart, that he’d left a poor defenseless creature to die alone …
So he unpacked the mule and stayed to care for the animal. All night long he watched over the deer as it slept as if he were caring for his own child. He gently poured water into its mouth and changed the cloths on its forehead.
By dawn, the deer had recovered.
The monk got up, sat down in an out-of-the-way spot and wept. In the end, he’d lost this one last opportunity, too.
“Now I’ll never meet you,” he said aloud.
“You can stop searching for me,” said a voice coming from behind him, “because you’ve already found me.”
The monk turned and watched as the deer became filled with light and took on the round shape of the Buddha.
“You would have lost me if you’d let me die here tonight and gone to find me in town. And as far as my death goes, fear not: the Buddha will never die as long as there are people like you who are able to follow my path for years, sacrificing their own desires for the needs of others. That’s what the Buddha is. The Buddha resides in you.”
Let me tell you a story
Jorge Bucay