Listening to Kinh Tam’s statements, the elder novices had much admiration and happiness for their younger brother. Novice Chi Tam went the next morning and related their conversation to the abbot, who was also very pleased.
The sneering in the village over the scandal eventually quieted down—that is, until Mau completed the term of her pregnancy and gave birth to the child. In a fit of anger, Mau’s father declared that Mau should take the baby to the person to whom it belonged, as he could not accept the presence of an out-of-wedlock child in his home. Still, Mau dared not reveal the truth. She didn’t know what she should do. In the end, she audaciously took the newborn child to the temple and left it in the care of novice Kinh Tam.
Chapter Seven
DIAMOND HEART
Kinh Tam had already thought of ways to answer the abbot and the elder novices about taking in the abandoned newborn. The young novice pleaded with the elder novices for their understanding and acceptance.
These words, however, did not prevent Thanh Tam from flying into a rage and refusing to acknowledge Kinh Tam’s presence for several days. This was not because Thanh Tam didn’t care for Kinh Tam, but simply because he didn’t fully understand. His logic was that Kinh Tam was not the child’s father and so should not take on the responsibility of raising the child. Kinh Tam had barely escaped the noose of injustice, so why should the novice have to voluntarily put his own neck back into it again?
Though Thanh Tam had listened to the reasoning that “the merit of building an elaborate temple nine stories high cannot compare to that of saving the life of one person,” he just could not accept it. “Why not save any other person, instead of saving that particular person?”
But Kinh Tam was very firm, even harder than a rock, in fact, for the novice’s heart had become like a diamond. No one could stop Kinh Tam from doing what the novice believed was right. How could someone so gentle, sweet, and devoted be so stubborn? Yet within a week, Kinh Tam’s steady patience helped change Thanh Tam’s point of view.
Elder brother Chi Tam also disagreed at first, but he kept silent and did not show any outward signs of protest. It could be that this elder brother was pulled between two forces inside: on the one hand, his fear of people’s contempt, and on the other, his faith in his younger brother, whose character was truly exceptional.
Most mysterious of all was the attitude of their teacher. After listening to Kinh Tam’s sincere request, the abbot just stayed quiet. Then he said, “You have my permission to make your own arrangements. You have gained maturity and insight. Just do what you believe to be appropriate.”
Raising a child was no small task. Luckily, although Aunt Han in the village did not have milk in abundance, she was still willing to share a bit for little Thien Tai. Kinh Tam had named the adopted child Thien Tai (“Good Inheritance”) and called him Tai for short. The novice chewed rice down to a paste before feeding it to the little one and sang lullabies to the child using only meditations from the sutras and scriptures.
Brother Thanh Tam often helped take care of Tai. He loved to chant “Sound of the Rising Tides”:
The Universal Dharma door is open,
the sound of the rising tide is clear, and the miracle happens:
a beautiful child appears in the heart of a lotus flower!
A single drop of the compassionate water is enough
to bring back the refreshing spring to mountains and rivers.
The new aspirant, Man, also really enjoyed cuddling baby Tai. Quite often, Man would run out to the thatched hut and ask permission to hold the baby or at least be allowed to sit beside him and watch him sleep. With the presence of little Tai, life within the temple became more cheerful. Kinh Tam raised Thien Tai with love, and the work of raising a child became a meditation practice in itself.
Since the day Kinh Tam took in the baby, elder brother Thanh Tam had been overseeing the task of sounding the large bell in the tower every evening, as Kinh Tam had asked him to do. It was quite awkward to ring the bell while carrying the child in one arm. Furthermore, the sound of the large bell was too loud, often startling the baby and making him cry. Whenever Kinh Tam missed sounding the bell too much, his elder brother would hold the baby while the novice went up to ring the bell and recite the gathas. Man also often asked permission to hold little Tai while Kinh Tam rang the bell and recited the gathas. Everyone appreciated hearing Kinh Tam’s recitation. Not hearing those recitations often left them feeling something was amiss.
Quite skillful in sewing and mending, the novice made tiny monk outfits for little Tai, using only simple brown fabrics. When the little one was two years old, he was taught to call the novice “father-teacher.”
As Thien Tai grew older, strangely enough, he didn’t look anything like Mau, and in fact his face increasingly resembled that of his “father-teacher.” This made novice Kinh Tam’s conduct more suspect. No one could imagine the possibility that the seeds of virtue and diligent practice in Kinh Tam, now sown and cultivated in Thien Tai, could manifest more visibly in the child’s countenance than hereditary seeds transmitted by biological parents.
Novice Chi Tam, now fully ordained and therefore called Thay Chi Tam, or Venerable Chi Tam, was considered the disciple with most seniority in years of practice at the temple and a very diligent monk. Yet even he had to admit that his diligence in the practice paled in comparison to that of the younger novice Kinh Tam. In truth, Kinh Tam had put all his energy into practicing meditation. Every evening Kinh Tam would do sitting meditation till midnight. Each time Chi Tam happened to look out toward the pine forest in front of the temple gates, he’d see the light of a kerosene lamp shining out from within Kinh Tam’s thatched hut. Kinh Tam participated in all activities of the temple and was only absent when ill. Thay Chi Tam often witnessed the novice taking peaceful, relaxed, and stable steps in meditation along the dirt path in front of the temple gates. There were times when Thay Chi Tam was ashamed for not putting as much effort into his practice and studies as his younger novice brother did.
Novice Kinh Tam saw little Tai as a major subject for deeper meditation. Thien Tai was the child of Mau, yes, but also the child of Kinh Tam. This was the meditation that Kinh Tam steadfastly focused on.
During these periods of meditation, Kinh Tam thought deeply about all the scandals, injustices, and suffering that had transpired. The novice would think deeply about all the individuals directly involved to gain further insight and clarity. Kinh Tam always started with self-directed personal reflection.
The second focus was Thien Si. It seemed Thien Si was trapped. The only son of a rich family, he had many advantages for acquiring a good education and a successful career, but the young man just could not be master of his own life. Thien Si was living as a shadow of his parents, completely under their control, just like a marionette moving under the puppeteer’s strings. He was not capable of making his own judgments about things or of creating happiness for himself and his beloved.
Kinh Tam thought back to the critical moment of the accusation of attempted murder. Thien Si was sitting there, wanting to say something, but he was ultimately unable to voice his thoughts. He was about to lose his wife, yet he could not take charge of the situation or even make any decision at all. His parents resolved to send their daughter-in-law away. How could he oppose them? Kinh had tried to change the situation, but could not. In returning home Kinh had felt quite light in heart and mind, not holding any grudge toward Thien Si. At the same time, Kinh did not have much respect for him, and without respect, marital love simply could not survive.
The third subject of this meditation was Mau. Daughter of a rich family, she had beauty and position, but not happiness. Although her suitors were numerous, she had never been truly loved. Even the young man whom Mau had bedded she neither loved nor respected. The novice did not need to know who that man was. What the novice knew with certainty was that Mau did not love that person. Both Mau and that man were simply victims of the raging fires of passio
n.
Mau fell in love, but fatally, as that love came up against two major obstacles. The first was that the person she loved had taken monastic vows. The second was that the person she loved was a young woman in disguise. Furthermore, Mau did not know how to practice in accord with the teachings of the Buddha, such as the Five Mindfulness Trainings (Buddhist precepts). No one had helped Mau understand that body and mind are like deep oceans containing dark, hidden whirlpools and sea monsters that can capsize the boat of our life in seconds. When one is miserable, lonely, and hopeless because of an impossible love, wealth or beauty has no real value. The issue is how to actually create happiness.
Both Kinh Tam and Mau were in danger of being drowned in the ocean of suffering and ignorance. If Kinh Tam had not practiced, the novice would not have been able to escape that ocean. Mau had hoped to trap Kinh Tam into admitting to the alleged tryst. The young woman still had confidence in the strength of her influence, her power, and her position in society. But Kinh Tam had defied all of that. Mau’s pride and conceit were totally demolished. It could be said that she suffered the most. What was left for her to feel happy about in life? Could it be that the only path remaining for her was the path of practice?
The fourth person was the biological father of Thien Tai. Whether that man was rich or poor, young or old, of high or low social class, acquainted with the novice or not, still living in the village or long gone away to another place, all was of little importance to the novice. Kinh Tam only saw that the man also suffered greatly. He had suffered because Mau did not acknowledge him, even though she had allowed him to be physically intimate with her. If Mau had loved him, she would have reported his name to the village council and had their wedding arranged. The truth was that Mau did not love him, and she was afraid of even mentioning his name. Clearly, he was also terrified and dared not make himself known or publicly acknowledge his son. Perhaps he didn’t even know he had a child at all. He would not have been caught in this web and forced to go into hiding if Mau hadn’t been obsessed, desperate, and miserable. The man had also fallen victim to ignorance and fear. Would he ever escape his predicament?
Of the four, only Kinh Tam was able to see the way out and had been able to practice so as not to be overwhelmed by the grave injustices that occurred. Looking around, the novice saw that numerous other young people were also caught in conditions of suffering similar to the situation of these four. How many had been able, as the novice had been, to find a path to escape misery and be truly free?
Kinh Tam’s heart and spirit felt light and free thanks to this practice of looking deeply to bring forth the energies of loving-kindness and compassion from within, like freshwater springing up from deep inside the Earth. Looking at the other three, Thien Si, Mau, and little Thien Tai’s father, the novice saw each one had suffered; each was still struggling to navigate the boat of life over the turbulent seas of ignorance and desires, getting tossed around by the waves, and often going under. With this understanding, Kinh Tam was able to truly love these three people. Now filled with compassion, the novice’s heart was free from hatred, resentment, and hurt. Kinh Tam knew that more practice would be necessary to one day help the three, and others, to find their own understanding and be released from their suffering.
The novice surmised, “How heart-wrenching it is to see young people continuing to go down such painful paths. My father, my mother, my teacher, my elder novice brothers, and even little Thien Tai were also victims and had to bear some of the consequences, although none of them was responsible for any part of the suffering or misdeeds.”
Chapter Eight
GREAT VOW
Surely anyone who has lived on Earth has had to experience injustice of one kind or another. If we allow hatred and revenge to dictate our response, then our suffering will only go on and on. How do we find a way out? How can we free ourselves? A person who feels injured by another typically harbors thoughts of revenge, wanting to punish the offender. But the Buddha taught that hatred is never removed by adding more hatred. The only stream that can wash away the pain of unjust acts is the sweet water of loving-kindness and compassion. Without loving-kindness and compassion, hatred and vengeance will continue to accumulate from one year, and one lifetime, to the next.
It was while mindfully going about daily activities such as sitting and walking meditation, preparing vegetables or fetching water from the well that novice Kinh Tam had used the powerful sword of insight meditation to cut through afflictions, suffering, and grievances. The novice’s mind and heart were now truly peaceful, happy, and free.
Months and years had passed. Thien Tai was now six years old. Aspirant Man was thirteen and had already officially taken the novice vows with the Dharma name Man Tam (“Heart of Fulfillment”). The previous year Brother Thanh Tam received the full ordination vows at a ceremony organized in the mountain district of Long Bien.
Novice Kinh Tam had asked to be permitted, after receiving the full vows, to visit home. Back at home, younger brother Chau was now twenty-five years old. He might already have finished studying at Dai Tap University, and might even have been selected for and taken one examination as well. Kinh Tam had been practicing at Dharma Cloud Temple for over eight years and during that time never had dared to write a single letter home.
Unfortunately, Kinh Tam fell ill before the full-vows ordination ceremony. Although very sick with pneumonia, the novice refused to allow any healers inside the thatched hut for diagnosis. For ten days straight, Kinh Tam was not able to swallow anything, not even rice broth. Little Tai, though still so very young, knew enough to worry about his father-teacher’s health.
Thien Tai was quite bright. He had memorized many sutras and gathas without having to formally study them. He already knew how to do sitting and walking meditation and could help novice Man Tam with cleaning tasks and preparing vegetables. During his father-teacher’s illness, the little aspirant hung around the thatched hut doing small jobs like boiling water, getting fresh ginger from the temple, and going to find Thay Thanh Tam to do something for his father-teacher. Thien Tai was old enough now to be sleeping every night in the temple, in novice Man Tam’s room.
Kinh Tam had a high fever for many nights and was now often coughing up a great deal of blood. Late one evening, after the fever had gone down, Kinh Tam knew death was near. The novice sat up. Outside, the full moon was shining brightly. Kinh Tam drew her last bit of strength together to write letters to the abbot and to her parents.
Kinh Tam felt remarkably peaceful; and in thinking of her parents, her brother Chau, and her elder Dharma brothers, the novice suddenly felt an inner boost of energy that allowed her to write three letters in a row. The first letter was to her parents and her brother, the second to the abbot her teacher, and the third to Mau. The novice’s hand did not tremble one bit while writing with the ink brush.
In her letter to the abbot, the novice first asked for forgiveness for her deception in disguising herself as a man. Her only defense was that the wish to practice as a monastic was too great for her to overcome. The novice shared about everything in her heart, including her dream of seeing the establishment of a temple where women could practice the monastic life. She also asked permission to have her elder Dharma brother Chi Tam travel all the way to Cuu Chan district to hand-deliver a letter she had written to her parents, and to allow aspirant Thien Tai also to go along and be presented to his grandparents. Kinh Tam carefully noted her parents’ full names and address, including village, district, and region. Last, the novice offered the abbot nine prostrations to express her faith and infinite gratitude to the teacher for whom she had utmost respect and love. The novice averred that the abbot had opened the spiritual path for her, and that all she had attained in the practice was entirely due to the abbot’s insights, loving-kindness, and compassion. In closing, the novice urgently entreated the abbot to find ways to realize her deepest last wish, which was to establish a temple for nuns.
In the letter to her pare
nts, after she apologized for her actions lacking in filial piety and explained the reasons that had brought her to live a monastic life, Kinh Tam shared with her parents the tremendous happiness she had known throughout her time living as a monastic. She also recounted, in a light and charming manner, the incident involving her and a young woman in the village. The novice thanked Chau for taking care of their parents in her stead during the last eight years, and gratefully acknowledged that she had been able to succeed on the path of practice due in large part to him. Kinh Tam asked her parents to inform her husband, Thien Si, and invite him to come along with them when they traveled to Giao Chi district for her funeral and cremation ser vices. She also spoke about the practice of inclusiveness, and the peace and happiness gained from wholehearted spiritual practice. In closing, the novice expressed her hope that her parents would regard aspirant Thien Tai as their grandson.
In her letter to Mau, after telling about her life, the novice said that she did not hold any grudge toward Mau at all; she knew Mau had been driven by despair, and this was why the novice greatly hoped that Mau would diligently practice to transform all of her afflictions. Kinh Tam said she always regarded Mau as a friend and she would be very gratified if Mau were to also aspire one day to live the monastic life.
After she finished writing the letter to Mau, Kinh Tam felt completely drained. The novice released the ink brush, blew out the kerosene lamp, and, straightening her posture, began to nourish her body through the meditation exercises on breathing. Once her body and mind became calm and peaceful, Kinh Tam immediately entered the Concentration of Immeasurable Loving-kindness. Having reached potent levels of loving-kindness concentration, the novice went on into the Concentration of Immeasurable Compassion. When she had attained full realization of this concentration, she entered the Concentration of Immeasurable Joy. A blissful smile bloomed continuously on the serene face of the novice. With full strength from the Concentration of Immeasurable Joy in her, Kinh Tam entered into the Concentration of Immeasurable Equanimity. In this concentration, loving-kindness, compassion, and joy embraced the novice and every being in the world; there was no discrimination between loved ones and enemies. The novice opened her heart fully to all beings. She concentrated her complete mindfulness on her parents, her brother, her teacher, her elder Dharma brothers, and every single person who had supported her in the entire twenty-eight years of this life. Then with a smile, she let go of that body and life. Stably seated in the lotus position, Kinh Tam passed away.