The Secret of the Senior Monk and the Lost Children

The atmosphere in the dharma hall was solemn. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the gaps in the leaves, casting shimmering streaks on the old brick floor. The final resonance of the bell faded away, leaving behind a sacred stillness before the teaching began. Among the figures in yellow robes adjusting their garments, a young senior monk approached Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang with an expression full of curiosity and deep respect.

This senior monk was known for his special charisma. Whenever he taught classes or organized festivals, Buddhists from all over crowded into the temple grounds. Many fellow practitioners secretly admired him, perhaps even feeling a slight envy because they did not understand how his blessings from merit could be so abundant. Today, seizing a rare opportunity to sit privately beside the master, the senior monk could not hold back his heart and asked softly:

"Venerable Master, may I ask a somewhat personal question? Why are your disciples so numerous and loyal? Where does the secret lie?"

Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang smiled gently. His gaze looked far away, as if piercing through the endless flow of time. He replied slowly, his voice warm yet clear in every word:

"There is no high or profound secret. It is simply that in past lives, I specialized in 'inviting' people to come to the temple in large numbers."

The senior monk was stunned, his brows furrowing in confusion. The Master continued, explaining more thoroughly:

"In past lives, I rented buses, I flattered, and I used every skillful means to persuade and invite others to come and listen to the Dharma. This merit of planting conditions, though it seemed like a small initial action, crystallized into great karmic results today. When I became a monastic, Buddhists naturally gathered around me in crowds. My wisdom opened up, and my ability to speak fluently emerged. That is the law of cause and effect (karmic law), absolutely precise."

That simple answer brought sudden awakening to the senior monk. He realized that propagating the Dharma does not necessarily require scholarly lectures on sutras. Sometimes, it only requires a sincere heart, knowing how to "skillfully encourage," and inviting friends to turn toward goodness. The blessing of such connection is more enduring and spreads more powerfully than any talent for eloquence.

But the story did not stop at the joy of personal blessings from merit. The image of lost children suddenly appeared sharply in the narrator’s mind, carrying a lingering sorrow. The Master recalled visiting a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, where many young adults had taken refuge in the Three Jewels at the temple. He inquired about each one, hoping to hear good news about their progress in practice.

Instead, cold and cruel answers echoed in his ears:

"That boy has died, Master. He overdosed on drugs."

"And that other one?"

"He is in prison, Master. Lacking money, he robbed people to buy drugs and was caught."

Each name, each fate fell away like autumn leaves. Those children had once knelt at the feet of the Buddha, vowing to keep the precepts. But after leaving the temple gates, they returned to solitary lives without community or reminders. They fell quickly because they lacked a "practice center"—a tight bond between spiritual siblings.

That pain urged the Master to change his method of teaching. From then on, he always emphasized the importance of establishing local practice centers. He explained to the Buddhists: "No one has the strength to practice alone." Except for those Pratyekabuddhas with deep and mature good conditions, all of us need to rely on the Sangha. A small practice center, where siblings meet every evening to chant sutras and share joys and sorrows, acts as a fortress protecting the soul from worldly temptations.

In this new model, the role of the "group leader" becomes extremely important. They are the direct bridge to the Master. If a member faces a difficult problem, from illness to mental crisis, the group leader calls immediately. The Master can arrange time to provide timely support, preventing tragic incidents. This care is so detailed that if you want to know where the Master is or how he rests, you only need to ask the group leader, and you will have an answer within thirty seconds.

This approach not only helps maintain diligence but also transforms practice from a solitary individual activity into a sustainable communal effort. According to the Master, the merit of building and maintaining a practice center is equal to building a temple, because it saves spiritual lives standing on the brink of disaster.

### The Meaning of the Story

This story conveys two core lessons about the responsibility of propagating the Dharma. First, the merit of "inviting" others to the true Dharma, even if it seems like a small action, creates great karmic results regarding wisdom and reputation in the future. Second, practice cannot be separated from community. Establishing practice centers and maintaining bonds between spiritual siblings are key factors to protect practitioners from falling, turning gratitude toward the Buddha into concrete and sustainable actions.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang