net and reached the safety of Nibbãna as well. But their time was
not yet ripe. All they could do was extol his extraordinary virtue
and honor his magnificent achievement with their tears. Such
was the overwhelming sentiment of the Buddhist faithful as they
mourned the loss of the monk they so revered. Only when his
body had finally been placed upon the funeral pyre did they begin
to calm down and grow quiet.
At midnight the funeral pyre was lit. In anticipation, such a
mass of people had crowded in around the cremation site that no
one could move. Packed tightly together, they pushed and pressed
against one another trying to get a better look. All had patiently
waited late into the night to have one last glimpse of his body – a
memory to be long cherished by everyone.
Just as the funeral pyre was lit, something unimaginably
strange and wonderful occurred. As the first flames began to
shoot up, a small cloud appeared in the sky and began to rain
ever so gently on the burning pyre. It was the night of the full
moon. Bright moonlight was shining over the surrounding area,
but the cremation site was suddenly bathed in a fine, misty rain.
Softly sprinkling for about fifteen minutes, the cloud then grad-
ually faded into the clear night sky. You may wonder why I think
it so strange. Normally, at that time of year, the sky is completely
clear; only the stars and the moon are visible. And so it was that
night, until the funeral pyre was lit, when a small cloud floated
over, sprinkling a gentle shower on the whole proceeding. I clearly
witnessed this amazing event – such an extraordinary spectacle
I’ve never forgotten it. Anyone who was there that night will be
able to confirm it.
Instead of the usual pile of firewood or charcoal, Ãcariya
jacob rumans
(Jacob Rumans)
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