Lottery Seller and the Afternoon Milk

On a hot afternoon, the asphalt road shimmered under the sun, while the roar of traffic seemed to tear through the air. Beneath the thin shade of an old tree, an elderly woman sat huddled on a low plastic chair. Before her stood a weathered wooden board displaying red numbers, and her frail, trembling hands flipped through lottery tickets one by one. Sweat dotted her forehead as her cloudy eyes followed the passing crowds, filled with both pleading and constant worry.

She did not sell tickets merely to sustain herself. At home, her husband lay bedridden from illness, and her grandchildren were perpetually sickly. Every coin earned from selling a few tickets had to be carefully saved for medicine and rice. Her life seemed nailed to extreme poverty and suffering. People often said, "If life is too hard, let go to find peace." But for her, letting go meant starving or abandoning those who depended on her care. She knew clearly that running away was never the solution.

One day, when the street was quiet, she rose and leaned on her cane, walking slowly along the sidewalk. Instead of resting, she bent down to pick up discarded bottles and plastic bags left behind by careless passersby. The action stung her back and exhausted her legs, yet she patiently gathered the trash into public bins. A young man passing by stopped in surprise and asked:

"Grandma, you are already tired from selling tickets. Why do you also collect trash? Are you not afraid of wasting your energy?"

She smiled gently, her voice hoarse but warm:

"My child, a clean street helps calm the afflictions (kleshas) in people's hearts. If I endure a little more hardship to bring order for everyone, it is my way of repaying this life."

Not stopping there, when she saw road workers sweating profusely under the harsh sun, she took some small change saved in her pocket and bought cool soy milk to offer them. Surprised, they watched as she explained:

"I do not have the strength to help pave the road, but I can contribute to nourishing your health. Consider this my part in building our homeland."

These small acts repeated themselves, day after day, month after month. She voluntarily took on more hardship and fatigue, transforming them into opportunities to sow good conditions (dependent origination). Many called her foolish for inviting extra trouble. Yet she believed that within suffering (dukkha), if one willingly accepts even greater difficulty, pain loses its foothold.

Then, on a bright morning with clear skies, a young Buddhist practitioner stopped before her ticket stand. Holding a lottery ticket, his eyes lit up, and his voice trembled:

"Grandma! Yesterday I accidentally bought your ticket. It won the jackpot of three billion!"

The old woman froze, her heart pounding, thinking she had misheard. The young man continued sincerely:

"This is my luck, but it is also your blessing. Please accept one billion so you can treat your husband’s illness and support your grandchildren. Thank you for teaching me the lesson of giving, even when we have the least."

Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. The hardships she had voluntarily carried suddenly transformed into a miracle. She realized that life never betrays those who face it with an open heart and diligent hands.

The Meaning of the Story

This story illustrates the profound philosophy of Venerable Thich Chan Quang: To escape suffering (dukkha), we cannot choose to simply let go or avoid responsibility. On the contrary, the only key is to actively choose a path of "greater effort," meaning doing more than our duty and sacrificing personal benefit to serve others. When we overcome suffering by accepting even greater hardship through ascetic practice, blessings from merit naturally arise, leading us to unexpected beautiful days in life.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thich Chan Quang