The One Who Remembered a Past Life: The Flower Had Not Yet Bloomed When the God of Death Arrived
A celestial maiden dies in the midst of a celebration, is reborn remembering her former husband, and prays to return. This story helps us understand the fleeting nature of pleasurable blessings and how to use blessings from merit to turn toward the spiritual path.

Have you ever wondered: if you could remember your past lives, would this life turn out differently, or perhaps more cruelly? I recently heard a story about a girl who clearly remembered having been a celestial maiden, remembered even her husband in the heavenly realm, and tried every possible way to return there. It sounds like a beautiful dream, but hidden within it is a profound lesson about impermanence (anicca) and karma.
The Celestial Maiden Suddenly Vanishes
During the time when the Buddha was still alive, in the heaven of Sakka there was a deity named Malabari who possessed great power. One day, he went strolling with hundreds of celestial maidens in a beautiful garden. They wove garlands of flowers and tossed them into the sky, forming floating shapes in the air. In the midst of their merriment, one celestial maiden suddenly climbed a tree branch, picked a flower, and then... vanished like a lamp going out. She was reborn into a wealthy family in the city of Savatthi, and from the moment of her birth she remembered her entire past life.
A Lesson on the Fleeting Nature of Life
The girl grew up, always remembering the heavenly realm and her former husband. Though she married and had children, her heart was set only on making offerings to the Buddha and the Sangha, with the wish of returning there. When she died at the age of twenty, people mourned her, believing she had been taken too soon. But the Buddha revealed the truth: she had returned to the heavenly realm, and her sudden death was a warning for us all.
"One who gathers flowers of every kind, lost in craving and attachment, with desires yet unfulfilled, is carried away by the god of death."
The Buddha taught: "In this world, everything is fleeting. Before we have finished enjoying our pleasures, the god of death has already carried us away." This is not merely a story about the heavenly realm; it is about our own lives. How many people are endlessly chasing after sensual pleasures, making plans for tomorrow, for next year, never knowing whether they will still be alive to enjoy them?
Blessings from Merit: Enjoy Them or Transform Them?
What is fascinating in this story is the way the heavenly realms are understood. Other religions believe heaven is a place of eternal reward or punishment. But Buddhism offers a fairer view of the universe: there are many levels of heaven, and many degrees of wrongdoing and merit. Whatever level of goodness a person cultivates, they enjoy a corresponding heavenly realm. However, one universal law applies: when one's merit is exhausted, one must depart from that realm of joy.
Non-Buddhists who do good deeds naturally enjoy the fruits of their merit. But wise Buddhists go further: they do not consume all their blessings from merit, but set them aside for spiritual practice. Master Thich Chan Quang explained:
"A true disciple of the Buddha is never foolish enough to enjoy all of their merit. Whenever they find themselves with abundance, they always seek ways to continue helping others, making offerings, practicing generosity, and doing good deeds."
Because of this, when they sit in meditation, the mind easily becomes calm, and their practice progresses swiftly. If one only enjoys one's blessings from merit without transforming them, that merit gradually runs dry, and one's spiritual life can never rise above the ordinary.
Remembering Past Lives: A Gift or a Burden?
In modern times, many people have recalled their past lives. The film "Birth" tells of a wife who meets her husband again in the form of a young boy. He remembers every detail, even his habit of tapping his foot when listening to music. But then he discovers that in his previous life he had a mistress, and that he had used this to sabotage the love between the wife and her lover. In the end, he admits his deception so that she may continue with her life.
Remembering past lives is not necessarily a good thing. It entangles us in the past, creating more suffering (dukkha) and turmoil in the present. Master Chan Quang said: "Better not to remember at all." Those who have attained the path may remember past lives but remain untroubled by them, while ordinary people, if they remember, will only add to their sorrow and disturb their lives.
Directing One's Karmic Fruits Like a Bodhisattva
The celestial maiden in this story did good deeds with only one goal: to return to the heavenly realm and reunite with her husband. It was a legitimate wish, yet still bound to samsara (cycle of rebirth). A bodhisattva, by contrast, does good deeds in a completely different way: they use blessings from merit to form wholesome connections with all sentient beings, directing everything toward the path of enlightenment.
"Today I build this road for everyone to travel, and I wish to form wholesome connections with all sentient beings. Whoever sets foot on this path will share a wholesome bond with me, and in the future will practice alongside me and attain the supreme perfect enlightenment."
This is what it means to direct one's karmic fruits. Ordinary people do good deeds hoping for cars and money. Those with wisdom do good deeds to help the world and to advance along the spiritual path. With every good karma we create today, let us think of the benefit for countless sentient beings rather than for ourselves alone. Then our blessings from merit will flow like streams returning to the great ocean, nourishing the bodhi mind while transforming the power of karma.
Life is short, and the flower may wither at any moment. Do not let yourself be swept away by the petals of desire, forgetting that the god of death waits at the door. Use every moment to do many good deeds, sow wholesome connections, and turn the mind toward true peace and happiness. Who knows—tomorrow we may no longer have the chance to repeat the very first aspiration of our lives.
AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.
Read in Vietnamese →