English
this is the story: A certain arahant elder, thinking, "I will venerate the Great Cetiya and the Great Bodhi Tree," came from the countryside to the Great Monastery with a novice attendant who had attained meditative absorption, and entered the monastery enclosure. In the evening, when the great community of monks was venerating the cetiya, he did not go out to venerate the cetiya. Why? For arahants have great respect for the Three Jewels. Therefore, after the community of monks had venerated and departed, at the time when people were having their evening meal, without even informing the novice, he went out alone, thinking, "I will venerate the cetiya." The novice, thinking, "Why is the elder going out alone at an unusual time? I will find out," followed closely behind his preceptor. The elder, not noticing his arrival due to lack of attention, ascended to the Great Cetiya courtyard through the southern gate. The novice also ascended immediately after him. The great elder, looking up at the Great Cetiya, taking delight in the Buddha as his object, bringing it all to mind, joyful and elated, venerates the Great Cetiya. The novice, seeing the elder's manner of veneration, thought, "My preceptor is venerating with exceedingly great faith; what if he were to obtain flowers and make an offering?" He thought. Then, having paid homage and risen, placing his joined hands on his head, gazing at the Great Cetiya, the novice, standing there, coughed, making his arrival known. The elder, turning and looking, asked, "When did you arrive?" "At the time of your homage to the Cetiya, venerable sir; you were very pleased, paying homage to the Cetiya; what if you were to obtain flowers and offer them?" "Indeed, novice, nowhere else is there such a deposit of relics as in this Cetiya. Who would not offer flowers to such an incomparable Great Thūpa?" "Then, venerable sir, consent, I will bring them," and immediately entering into jhāna, by his psychic power he went to the Himalayas, took flowers endowed with color and fragrance, filled the strainer, and before the elder had reached the western side from the southern side, he returned, placed the flower strainer in his hand, and said, "Offer them, venerable sir." The elder said, "Are the flowers not too few, novice?" "Go, venerable sir, reflect on the virtues of the Blessed One and offer them." The elder, ascending by the staircase leading from the western side, began to offer flowers on the terrace level. The terrace level was full; the flowers, falling, filled the second level with a layer knee-high. Then descending, he filled the row of foot-pedestals; that too was full; knowing it to be full, scattering them on the lower level, he went; the entire Cetiya courtyard was filled; when it was full, he said, "Novice, the flowers are not diminishing." "Turn the strainer upside down, venerable sir." Having turned it upside down, he shook it. Then the flowers diminished. The elder, giving the strainer to the novice, together with the elephant keeper, circumambulated the Cetiya three times, paid homage at the four places, and going to the enclosure, thought – 'How very powerful this novice is; will he be able to protect this psychic power?' Then, seeing that 'he will not be able,' the novice... He said to him, "Sāmaṇera, now you are mighty; but without destroying such power, in the end, you will drink mashed rice gruel, crushed by the hand of a blind weaver woman." It was indeed a fault of his youth that he, being moved by the words of his preceptor, did not ask, "Venerable sir, please teach me a meditation subject"; but as if not hearing what his preceptor said, he went away. The Elder, having worshipped the Great Cetiya and the Great Bodhi-tree, had the sāmaṇera take his bowl and robe and gradually went to Kuteḷitissa Great Monastery. The sāmaṇera, following in the footsteps of his preceptor, did not go for alms. But asking, "Which village are you entering, venerable sir?" and knowing, "Now my preceptor will have reached the village gate," he, taking his own and his preceptor's bowl and robe, would come through the air, give the preceptor his bowl and robe, and enter for alms. The Elder always advised, "Sāmaṇera, do not do this; mundane power is unstable and unfixed; having obtained an unsuitable object, such as a visible form, it is destroyed by very little; being diminished from peaceful attainment, it is not able to support the holy life." The sāmaṇera did not want to hear, "What is my preceptor saying?" and did just that. The Elder, gradually making his way worshipping at shrines, went to a place called Kammupenda Monastery. Even while the Elder was staying there, the sāmaṇera did just that. Then one day, a beautiful weaver's daughter, standing at a young age, went out from Kammupenda village, descended to the lotus pond, and was singing while plucking flowers. At that time, the sāmaṇera was going over the top of the lotus pond, and while going, like a blind fly in molasses, he was caught in the sound of her song; immediately his power disappeared, and he became like a crow with clipped wings. But by the power of peaceful attainment, without falling right there on the surface of the water, falling like cotton wool, he gradually stood on the shore of the lotus pond. He quickly He did not go, but after giving bowl and robe to his preceptor, he turned back. The Elder thought, "This has surely been seen by me, even if prevented, he will not turn back," and without saying anything, entered for alms. The novice went and stood on the bank of the lotus pond, waiting for her to come out. She too, seeing the novice going through the air and then coming back and standing, knowing, "Surely, he is longing for me," said, "Go back, novice." He went back. The other one came out, put on her garment, approached him, and asked, "What is it, venerable sir?" He told her the matter. Even though she showed him the dangers in household life and the advantages in the life of celibacy with many reasons, being unable to dispel his longing, she thought, "He has declined from such power because of me; it is not right to abandon him now." Saying, "Stay here," she went home and told her parents the situation. They too came and, though admonishing him in various ways, when he did not accept their words, they said, "Do not think of yourself as being from a high family. We are weavers. Will you be able to do weaving work?" The novice said, "Layman, a householder might do weaving work or basket-making work, what is the point of this, do not be greedy for just a garment." The weaver put a garment tied around his waist, took him home, and gave him to his daughter. Having learned weaving work, he works in the workshop with the weavers. The wives of the others prepare food early in the morning and bring it. His wife does not come so soon. While the others are releasing their work and eating, he sits spinning thread. She came later. Then he scolded her, "You have come too late." A woman, even knowing that a wheel-turning king has his mind attached to her, considers him like a slave. Therefore, she said thus, "In the homes of others, firewood, greens, salt, and so on are available; there are also donors and weavers who bring them from outside. I But I am alone; and you don't even know 'I have this, I don't have that' in my house. If you want to eat, eat; if you don't want to eat, don't eat." He, thinking, "Not only do you bring food grudgingly, but you also offend me with your words," became angry, and not seeing any other weapon, he plucked that same water-scoop handle from the water-scoop and threw it. She, seeing it coming, turned slightly. And the tip of the water-scoop handle was sharp. It entered the corner of her eye as she was turning and stuck there. She grabbed her eye with both hands forcefully. Blood flowed from the broken place. At that time, he remembered his preceptor's words, "My preceptor said this referring to the future, 'You will drink gruel mashed by the hand of a blind basket-maker.' This will have been seen by the Elder. Alas, the Elder is far-sighted!" and he began to weep loudly. Others said to him, "Enough, friend, don't weep; an eye that is broken cannot be made whole again by weeping." He said, "I am not weeping about this matter; but indeed, I am weeping referring to this," and he told the whole story in order. Thus, arisen serenity and insight, when ceasing, lead to misfortune. Another story: About thirty monks, having worshipped the Mahācetiya in Kalyāṇī, descending to the main road by a forest path, saw a man in the middle of the path coming from working in a cremation ground. His body was smeared with ashes, and he wore a single ash-smeared robe, tucked up at the side. When looked at, he appeared like a charred stump. Having worked during the day, lifting a bundle of half-burnt firewood, with his hair scattered on his back, coming by a crooked path, he stood before the monks. The novices, seeing him, looking at each other, laughing, went and said, "Friend, your father, your grandfather, your uncle," "What is your name, lay devotee?" They asked his name. Being asked his name, he became remorseful, threw away the bundle of wood, arranged his robe, put it on, worshipped the elders, and said, "Wait a moment, venerable ones." The elders stood. Young novices came and mocked the elders in their presence. The lay follower said, "Venerable ones, you mock me upon seeing me; you think you have reached the summit with just this much. I too was once a monk just like you. But you don't even have a moment of mental focus. In this dispensation, I was one of great power, great influence; taking the sky, I would make it earth, taking the earth, I would make it sky; taking the far, I would make it near, taking the near, I would make it far; I would pierce through a thousand world-systems in an instant. Look at my hands; now they are like the hands of a monkey.