The Dhammapada

by Eknath Easwaran

Once, near the town of Shravasti, the Buddha was seated with his disciples when a woman named Krisha Gautami made her way through the crowd and knelt at his feet. Her tear-streaked face was wild with grief, and in the fold of her sari she carried a tiny child. “I’ve been to everyone,” she pleaded desperately, “but still my son will not move, will not breathe. Can’t you save him? Can’t the Blessed One work miracles?” “I can help you, sister,” the Buddha promised tenderly. “But first I will need a little mustard seed – and it must come from a house where no one has died.” Giddy with joy, Krisha Gautami raced back to the village and stopped at the very first house. The woman who met her was full of understanding. “Of course I will give you some mustard seed! How much does the Blessed One need to work his miracle?” “Just a little,” Krisha Gautami said. Then, remembering suddenly: “But it must come from a house where no one has died.” Her neighbor turned back with a smile of pity. “Little Gautami, you know how many have died here. Just last month I lost my grandfather.” Krisha Gautami lowered her eyes, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I’ll try next door.” But next door it was the same – and at the next house, and the next, and the house after that. Everyone wanted to help, but no one, even in the wealthiest homes, could meet that one simple condition. Death had come to all. Finally Krisha Gautami understood. She took her child to the cremation ground and returned to the Compassionate Buddh...