Killing Truth



One day Mara, who is the ancient Buddhist god of ignorance and evil, was travelling through the villages of India with his attendants. Along the way, he noticed a man doing a walking meditation. The man's face was lit up in wonder. Apparently, the man had just discovered something on the ground in front of him.

Mara's attendants, noticing the glow emanating from the man, asked Mara what it was the man had discovered. Mara replied, "He has discovered a piece of truth."

"But evil one!" exclaimed one of his entourage, "Doesn't this bother you when someone finds a piece of the truth?"

"No," said Mara. "I am not troubled in the least."

"But why not?"insisted his attendants.

"Because," replied Mara, chuckling, "Right after they discover some truth, they usually make a belief out of it."

The Seven Jars



Long ago there lived in Northern India a merchant whose wife had died and who went daily from his lonely house in the foothills to the town below, for buying and selling. "I must have a holiday," he said to himself one day, and he began to climb up into the hills to enjoy the view and the sounds of the forest. In the hot afternoon, feeling sleepy he looked for a quiet place for a nap. Soon he discovered a kind of hole in a cliff, actually a cave; so he lay down in the dark interior and slept. Waking up, he felt there was something with him, in the cave.

Crawling back inside he found a large earthen jar. Then another, and another and another -- there were seven jars there, altogether! Now the merchant wondered if he dared to open them. There was no sound of anyone about, still it seemed a bit risky. But curiosity, as you know, is powerful indeed. He found he could lift the lid of the first jar. What do you know! It seemed to be full of gold coins. So were the second, third, fourth and fifth. Under the lid of the sixth jar he found an aged piece of paper.
On it was written, "Finder, beware!! The seven jars of gold are yours, but there is a curse. No one who takes them with him can leave the curse behind." Now, next to curiosity, greed is the most powerful urge. Our merchant overjoyed with his luck, wasted no time in borrowing a two-wheeled cart to carry the jars of gold to his house. It was exhausting and next to impossible. Bulky and hard to lift, they had to be taken two by two; in the dark of night he lugged them to his house. On the last trip, with the seventh jar alone thankfully the load was lighter, and he noticed nothing.

"Let me count the coins," he thought, "and see how great my fortune is."

But when that seventh jar was opened he found it was only half-full. "What!" he cried, "I was promised seven jars!" He had thrown the note away and forgotten about the curse. The merchant was overcome and obsessed by a spirit of grasping and greed. Now, in the town, he went at his money-making hand and fist; it was all he lived for. "I must fill the seventh jar with gold,": this was his constant thought. Yet the more he put into the jar, strangely the more it remained half-full. He lived some years more, but never did he enjoy spending the gold he had found, because it was never enough.

Whisper or Brick



A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!

He slammed on the brakes and spun the Jag back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown. He jumped out of the car, grabbed some kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting,

"What was that all about and who are you? Just what do you think you are doing?" Building up a head of steam, he went on. "That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?"

"Please, mister, please. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do!" pleaded the youngster. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop." Tears were dripping down the boy's chin as he pointed around the parked car. "It's my brother," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up." Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me."

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was going to be okay. "Thank you and God bless you," the grateful child said to him. The man then watched the little boy push his brother down the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long walk back for the man to his Jaguar...a long, slow walk. He never did repair the side door. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.

I Can Sleep When The Wind Blows



Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.

As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man. Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him.

The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work. Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters.

He shook the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!" The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins.

The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

Stone and the Flower



"You have hardened", said the flower, bending her petals downward toward the half stone at her roots. "These rains should have softened you, made you more fertile and receptive to the seeds of the fields; but no. You have accumulated minerals and have become more silent and full of calcium. Why do you stay here? Why do you resist the brook that gives us water?"

The stone said nothing.

A number of clouds passed by, the sun set and the night arrived with an immense bronze-coloured freckled moon with acne scars upon her worn face and in this manner reflected down upon the silent stone which still had not fallen asleep. The flower, by now, had tucked-in her petals and slept profoundly, and at this time the stone began to answer:

"I stay here because your roots have made me yours. I stay here because it is no longer about my feeling the earth rather because I have become part of that which functions as a support of your stem which resists the wind and the rain. Everything changes, my sweet flower", said the stone, "but I stay here because love is that microscopic space between your feet and my salted skin. You would only be able to feel it if destiny were ever to separate the two of us."

The moon followed the fade of the stars. Dawn gave a yawn as the sun began to burn its horizon on the lower lip of the mouth of a new day. The flower awoke and extended her beautiful petals. "Good morning", she said, "I dreamt that you were singing to me. How foolish of me, don't you think?"

The stone said nothing.

Blindness



There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend who was always there for her. She told her boyfriend, 'If I could only see the World, I will marry you.'

One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend.

He asked her,'Now that you can see the world, will you marry Me?' The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind.

The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn't expected that, and the thought of looking at them the rest of her life led Her to refuse to marry him.

Her boyfriend left in tears and days later wrote a note to her that said:

'Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they Were yours, they were mine.'

The Homeless Man



It was a cold winter�s day that Sunday. The parking lot to the church was filling up quickly. I noticed as I got out of my car that fellow church members were whispering among themselves as they walked to the church. As I got closer, I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the church. He was almost lying down as if he was asleep.

He had on a long trench coat that was almost in shreds, and a hat topped his head, pulled down so you could not see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30 years old, too small for his feet, with holes all over them. His toes stuck out.

I assumed this man was homeless and asleep, so I walked on by through the doors of the church. We all gathered for fellowship for a few minutes, and someone brought up the man lying outside. People snickered and gossiped, but no one bothered to ask him to come in, including me.

A few moments later, church began. We all waited for the preacher to take his place and to give us the Word, when the doors to the church opened. In came the homeless man walking down the aisle with his head down.

People gasped and whispered and made faces. He made his way down the aisle and up onto the pulpit. He took off his hat and coat. My heart sank. There stood our preacher. . .he was the �homeless man.�

No one said a word.

The preacher took his Bible and laid it on the stand. �Folks, I don�t think I have to tell you what I am preaching about today.�

Circle of Joy



One day, a countryman knocked hard on a monastery door. When the monk tending the gates opened up, he was given a magnificent bunch of grapes.

"Brother, these are the finest my vineyard has produced. I�ve come to bear them as a gift."

"Thank you! I will take them to the Abbot immediately, he�ll be delighted with this offering."

"No! I brought them for you."

"For me?" The monk blushed, for he didn�t think he deserved such a fine gift of nature.

"Yes!" insisted the man. "For whenever I knock on the door, it is you opens it. When I needed help because the crop was destroyed by drought, you gave me a piece of bread and a cup of wine every day. I hope this bunch of grapes will bring you a little of the sun�s love, the rain�s beauty and the miracle of God, for it is he made it grow so fine."

The monk held the grapes and spent the entire morning admiring it: it really was beautiful. Because of this, he decided to deliver the gift to the Abbot, who had always encouraged him with words of wisdom.

The Abbot was very pleased with the grapes, but he recalled that there was a sick brother in the monastery, and thought:

"I�ll give him the grapes. Who knows, they may bring some joy to his life."

And that is what he did. But the grapes didn�t stay in the sick monk�s room for long, for he reflected:

"The cook has looked after me for so long, feeding me only the best meals. I�m sure he will enjoy these."

When the cook appeared at lunch, to bring him his meal, he presented him with the grapes:

"They�re for you," said the sick monk. "Since you are always coming into contact with that which nature produces, you will know what to do with this work of God."

The cook was amazed at the beauty of the grapes, and showed his assistant how perfect they were. So perfect, he thought to himself, that no one would appreciate them more than the sexton; since he was responsible for the Holy Sacrament, and many at the monastery considered him a holy man, he would be best qualified to value this marvel of nature.

The sexton, in turn, gave the grapes as a gift to the youngest novice, that he might understand that the work of God is in the smallest details of Creation. When the novice received them, his heart was filled with the Glory of the Lord, for he had never seen such beautiful grapes.

Just then, he remembered the first time he came to the monastery, and of the person who had opened the gates for him; it was that gesture which allowed him to be among this community of people who knew how to value the wonders of life.

And so, just before nightfall, he took the grapes to the monk at the gates.

"Eat and enjoy them," he said. "For you spend most of your time alone here, and these grapes will make you very happy."

Mother Universe



Ganesha went outdoors one day to play and found a stray cat. Too small to know better, he began to pull her ears and tail. He roughed up that poor cat and even began to beat her with a stick, making marks on her head till, yowling, she ran for her life. Some hours later Ganesha went into the house. His mother, to his astonishment and dismay, was looking terrible. Her hair was a mess, she had scratches on her face and she limped from the bruises on her body.

"Mom!" cried Ganesha. "Who beat you up?"

Sadly Sri Durga replied, "It was you, I'm afraid."

"No way! What do you mean? I never did it!"

"Do you remember, his mother asked, "a while ago, how you treated a certain cat?"

Now Ganesha though that the cat's owner must have come and beat Mother Durga on account of him, and he burst into tears.

"Where is that man?" he sobbed.

"No, not that. You see, my boy, I am not just your physical mother. I have filled the whole universe with My Being. As a matter of fact, whatever you do to any least part of it, you do that to Me."

Some years later the Mother was sitting in her dressing room in a very lofty mood. She had recently been meditating and in that mood had become quite conscious of her own divinity. Now she put around her neck a lovely necklace of gems, a gift from her husband, Shiva. But seeing Ganesha and her other son, Kartik (Karteek), playing nearby, she said to them "Look, I will give this precious necklace to whichever of you comes back first, after traveling all around the universe. So run this race, but cover every mile of the universe."

Kartik immediately dropped what he was doing, went out, and finding the animal he most liked to ride upon (which was a magic steed), he set off on the long journey. He went as fast as he could, over the earth, out to the moon and planets, sailed through the galaxies and visited the asteroids, even peeping into a black hole or two. Almost exhausted, he recalled that he had to save energy enough to return. When Kartik finally reached home he saw his brother was already wearing the necklace of gems! Ganesha, you see, had become much wiser now: he had simply gone all the way around his Mother's body and then bowed down before Her.

Ten Million Dollars



A reporter was attempting to get a human interest story out of a very, very old man in a government-run home for the aged.

"Grandpa," said the young reporter, "how would you feel if you suddenly got a letter telling you that a distant relative had left you ten million dollars?"

"Son," said the old man slowly, "I would still be ninety-five years old, wouldn't I?"