The Folding Cot of the Old Man Who Criticized Everyone

In the late afternoon in Long Hai, the sea breeze rustled through the rows of casuarina trees. In a simple little house lived an old man all alone — no wife, no children, no grandchildren. He had once practiced according to the Theravada tradition. His hair was stark white and his frame gaunt, but his mouth never spared anyone from criticism.

He had a habit that everyone nearby knew well: he criticized whoever he met. He would say this person did not practice correctly, or that that person did not live properly. According to him, only two people in this world were worthy of escaping his judgment — the Buddha and the Venerable Narada from Sri Lanka, who wrote the famous book about the Buddha. Everyone else was fair game for his critique. This constant criticizing became a habit, then karma, and eventually a part of his life.

A young person lived with him during his final years. This young person diligently cared for the old man, and when he passed away, they took all of his belongings — cabinets, beds, tables, and chairs — up to the mountain temple as offerings. Personal possessions became temple property; this act brought blessings from merit.

Among these items was an old folding cot. The old man used to lie on it while alive, enjoying the breeze or resting at noon. The young person brought the cot to the temple so that everyone there could rest upon it.

One day, the temple received a small puppy. It had golden fur and round eyes, running and jumping everywhere. Whenever no one was around, it would leap onto the folding cot, curl up, and sleep soundly.

A lay Buddhist woman saw this and rushed over to pick the dog up. She thought to herself, "Sometimes the teachers sit here; why is the dog lying here?" She lifted the dog down, but it walked away and soon jumped back up to lie down again. She lifted it down again. This happened repeatedly throughout the entire afternoon.

That night, she dreamed. In her dream, the image of an old man appeared — it was the very same old man who had lived in Long Hai. He looked at her, his voice tinged with resentment.

"That is my cot. Why do you keep making me get off it?"

The lay Buddhist woman woke up startled, her heart pounding, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. The connection was too clear to be mistaken.

When this story was shared, everyone who heard it fell silent. The old man had spent his life criticizing others, speaking ill of this person and that person. Eventually, his heavy verbal karma led to rebirth as an animal. A mindless puppy, simply because it lay on the wrong cot, turned out to be someone familiar to them all.

From then on, those who heard this story shuddered and reflected on their own words. A sincere compliment — praising a girl’s lovely face today, or an elder’s kind demeanor — is a gift more precious than gold or silver, bringing joy to others and blessings from merit to oneself. Conversely, a harsh criticism or a resentful remark, which seems like just a few seconds on the tip of the tongue, can become the seed of a fallen existence.

Praise and criticism — merit and sin — are powerful forces. They are not simple matters. Do not underestimate this.

The Meaning of the Story

This story reminds us of the weight of verbal karma. Human beings live largely driven by feeling aggregates — by sensations of pleasure and pain. Praise and criticism are precisely those joys and sufferings. Praising others at the right time plants merit, making others happy while also generating blessings from merit for oneself. Criticizing or speaking ill of others creates negative karma, unless it is gentle advice offered out of love to help someone overcome their mistakes. Accumulated verbal karma over many instances can lead to serious karmic consequences, as seen with the old man in this story. Therefore, be cautious with your criticisms, generous with your praise, and always keep your speech gentle and loving.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang