In a small village near a peaceful river, there lived a humble monk known for his wisdom and kindness. His monastery was modest, but the monks living there were deeply devoted to their practice. They spent their days meditating, chanting, and helping the villagers in whatever ways they could.
One morning, as the sun rose over the river, a beggar arrived at the monastery. He was dirty, hungry, and had no shoes. The villagers ignored him, but the beggar made his way to the gates of the monastery and asked for alms.
The head monk, a man of great compassion, saw the beggar and immediately instructed a young monk to give him food and clothing. The young monk, a new initiate to the monastery, was uncomfortable with the beggar’s appearance. He hesitated but then followed the orders of the head monk. He went into the monastery, prepared some food, and returned to hand it over to the beggar.
As the young monk approached, he could feel his discomfort growing. The beggar looked disheveled, his hands trembling as he reached for the food. The monk placed it before him, but before he could leave, the beggar spoke: “Tell me, what is the meaning of true peace?”
The young monk, still uncertain, replied, “True peace comes from letting go of desire and attachment, from the practice of meditation and mindfulness.”
The beggar nodded slowly, and then asked, “And how do you practice letting go of attachment?”
The young monk opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, the beggar suddenly stood up, with his hand outstretched. He reached for the monk’s robes and tugged at the cloth, pulling it slightly.
The monk was startled, and quickly stepped back. “What are you doing?”
The beggar smiled and said, “You say peace comes from letting go of attachment. Tell me, if I take this robe from you, will you let it go without attachment? Will you still have peace?”
The young monk was taken aback. He had been taught that detachment was essential for peace, but this beggar’s question went straight to the heart of his practice.
In that moment, the head monk, who had been observing from the shadows, approached. He stood silently next to the young monk and the beggar. Without a word, he placed a hand on the young monk’s shoulder and gently led him away.
The beggar, still smiling, returned to his seat by the gate. The head monk, without saying anything, led the young monk back to the monastery and into the meditation hall.
Hours passed. The young monk meditated deeply, grappling with the beggar’s question. When the evening bell rang, signaling the end of the day, the head monk spoke softly to the young monk.
“Do you understand the lesson?” the head monk asked.
The young monk nodded, his heart lightened. “Yes. It is not in giving away things or practicing detachment that we find peace, but in our ability to stay calm and peaceful no matter what is taken from us. True peace comes from within, from knowing that nothing, not even our most cherished possessions or beliefs, can disturb the stillness of the mind if we do not allow it.”
The head monk smiled. “You have learned well.”
This story is a reminder that spiritual wisdom sometimes comes not from words, but from the challenging situations and encounters in our daily lives. The beggar, though an outsider, became the silent teacher that day, asking a question that led the young monk to a deeper understanding of inner peace.