Wednesday 21 November 2012

The wallet

Some of us, at some time in our lives, need help.
This help need not be financial,
may not be emotional, or even physical.
Some of us need spiritual help from time to time.
The guidance that gives us a warm glow of knowing that all is well within ourselves and the Universe.
This help sometimes comes from listening to a Dharma, from a good book, a kind talk with a parent, or a helping hand from a complete stranger.

The following story is from one of the Dharma's in my book.

The wallet.....
A ticket collector found a beaten up old wallet on a crowded train.
Inside was no clue to who owned it, no name, no cards, just a picture of the Buddha.
He held it up and asked
"Who owns this?"
An old man said "Its mine."
The ticket collector said he would have to prove it was his before he would hand it over.
The toothless old man said that there was a picture of Buddha in it, but the collector needed more proof.
So the old man took deep breath and told the following tale.
"My father gave me the wallet when I was in school.
I got a small sum as pocket money and I kept a picture of my parents and my money in it When I was a teenager I was greatly pleased with my good looks and I took the picture of my parents out and put in one of myself.
I loved my thick black hair.
Some years later I got married.
My wife was beautiful and I replaced my picture with a picture of her.
I spent hours looking at her pretty face.
When my child was born my life changed and I shortened my workday to spend more time with my son.
My babies picture now replaced my wifes picture.
The old mans eyes brimmed with tears as he went on,
My parents passed away many years ago, and last year my beloved wife left this world.
My son is too busy with his own family and has no time for me.
All that I had ever held dear and close to my heart is now far away.
Now I have put a picture of the Buddha in my wallet.
It is only now that I realize that he is my eternal companion.
He will never leave me.
Alas, if only I had reslised this before and loved the Buddha all these years with the same intensity as I loved my family,
I would not have been so lonely today.
The ticket collector gave the old man his wallet and when the train stopped at the next station the collector got off and asked the bookstall salesman,
"Do you have a picture of the Divine One I can put in my wallet?"

Nathan









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With love