In fact, he appeared to be lying fast asleep, though of course he
wasn’t sleeping at all. Around midday, the procession reached a
cool, shady grove of trees. We asked Ãcariya Mun’s permission to
take a short rest for the sake of the large group of people accom-
panying him. He immediately asked, “Where are we now?” The
moment I heard his voice I was caught off guard by a surge of
affection and emotional attachment. Why was I so deeply moved
by this wonderful, welcome sound? It seemed, suddenly, as though
Ãcariya Mun was his old self again.
Is this beloved paragon of the three worlds truly going to aban-
don me, a poor orphan whose heart is about to break? Will his pure
heart, whose kind assistance has always helped to breathe life into my
spirit, really withdraw from my life and disappear – forever? Such
were my immediate feelings the moment Ãcariya Mun spoke up.
Some people may consider this a somewhat crazy reaction. But I
have no misgivings – I willingly admit this kind of craziness. For
Ãcariya Mun’s sake, I was so crazy I would gladly have volunteered
to die in his place without the least concern for my own life. Had
it been his wish, I would have happily laid down my life – no
second thoughts. I was prepared at a moment’s notice to sacrifice
my life for his. But, alas, it was impossible for him to accept any
sacrifice I might be willing to offer. The truth is that everyone in
the world must inevitably travel the same route: whatever is born
must die. There are no exceptions.
The journey to Sakon Nakhon was planned in two stages.
The first day we walked as far as Ban Phu monastery in Phanna
Nikhom district, where we were to rest for a few days, allowing
Ãcariya Mun a chance to recuperate before moving on to Sakon
Nakhon.^13 Leaving Ban Nong Pheu at nine o’clock that morning,
jacob rumans
(Jacob Rumans)
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