a note

my aunt in thailand (the widowed one with 5 grandchildren) met a monk in her most hopeless hours, he let them stay at the temple when they got kicked out of the school, and gave them food when they were hungry.

and then things got better after we have decided to help them a bit each month. and then my mom got the chance to talk to that monk over the phone. and they became friends. my aunt went visit that monk from time to time, for he was wise and goodhearted.

3 days ago he went visit the poor, and hurt his toe on the way (because he walked only with bare feet, he never wore shoes.) but he was 86 years old and he had diabetes, so it happened that there was an infection and he was dying all of a sudden.

he passed away last night. he was in the hospital, could not talk or move until before the arrival of death, he sat up straight, and wrote a note, and he wrote it for us. who would have thought that we would be the last thing on this dying monk's mind?

and then i started to think about what a person would write about when he knew it would be his/her last words ever written.

my aunt carried his buddhist bowl and walked around the village, asking for donations so they could purchase for him a coffin. one family donated $1 in thai bhat. she could not help but cry all the way home, realising how light humanity can be.

life is such a fragile thing. sometimes we meet people, and we think we will always have time, and then it's suddenly too late for anything to happen.

i heard that art people are often very aware of the passage of time. maybe that's why i am impulsive. i think i should buy him his coffin.

i have to keep telling my little heart to be stronger than itself, bigger too, so ships can sail.