Enjoy the Strawberry -- Susan Price
Hey, it's Christmas Day!
 |
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Buddhism_dham_jak.svg
|
So there were these two Buddhist monks travelling together, one much older than the other. They were on foot, slogging along.
They came to a fast-flowing river, with no bridge. On the river bank, looking scared, was a beautiful young woman.
A Buddhist monk, like most other monks, is bound by strict vows of celibacy and is forbidden to even touch a woman.
As the monks near the woman, she turns to them and tells them that her mother is very sick and she needs to go to her. But her mother's village is on the other side of this river. She's tried to cross it once, but was nearly swept away. Can they help her get across?
"Of course," says the older monk, a hefty sort. He picks the young woman up his arms and wades into the river. The water sways him and the woman cries out and locks her arms round his neck. But the monk is strong and soon gets his balance. Slowly, he wades to the opposite bank. The younger monk follows.
Climbing out on dry land, the older monk puts the woman down and waves away her thanks. "Good luck go with you," he says, "and may your mother be well when you reach her."
The woman hurries off, and the two monks continue on their own way. They trudge in silence for an hour or more, up and down steep hills. Then the younger monk bursts out, "Why did you do that? You touched a woman! It's forbidden!"
The older monk says, "Are you still carrying that woman? I left her at the river's side."
There was this other Buddhist monk, who was travelling by himself through wild, mountainous country of thick forest. The paths were narrow, with sheer drops to one side. Suddenly, a tiger sprang out at him.
The monk ran for his life, along the frighteningly narrow path (as if being chased by a tiger wasn't scary enough.) Then the path ran out. It had crumbled away, leaving a gap too wide to jump.
With only moments to consider, the monk decided he would rather die by plummeting down the mountain than being torn by the tiger's claws and teeth, so he threw himself off the path. But still, as he crashed and rolled, he grabbed at branches with a tiny hope of saving himself...
He was in luck. He grabbed hold of a stout vine and was pulled up short...
He dangled there. A hungry tiger snarling above. Below, a long drop into a narrow, rocky gorge at the bottom of which surged a powerful river. It wasn't a survivable fall.
Oh well. The monk tightened his hold on the vine. If he could hold on long enough, maybe the tiger would wander off. If it did, maybe, if he was careful, he could clamber back up to the path, with the vine to help.
But as he hung there, a troop of little mice emerged from a crevice in the cliff. They started to gnaw the vine. He tried to shoo them away, but they only retreated for a moment, then returned. They were hungry. He hadn't the heart to harm the poor little things. Soon they were half-way through the vine and the monk could feel it quivering under his weight.
So he'd escaped the tiger, but in the next few moments the vine would break, and he would plunge down into the rocks and fast water far below. Plainly, this was his time to die.
He looked around at the blue sky, the magnificent mountains, a circling hawk, the greenery. These were the last things he would see.
And then, an arm's length away, he saw the most beautiful, scarlet, ripe strawberry. He reached out with one hand, picked it and bit into it. The strawberry was scented and delicious, the sweetest, tastiest strawberry he'd ever eaten. As he enjoyed the strawberry's delectable second half, the mice gnawed right through the vine and the monk fell...
May you find your strawberries in safer places, but may you also enjoy them!
Comments