The Road Past the Church

The road in front of the church stretched long under the daylight, the sound of passing vehicles never ceasing. Sister Lieu Nghiem, who served as the senior nun of her community at the temple, was walking correctly on her side of the street. Her steady steps carried her safely across the flow of traffic. Once she reached the other side, the distance from the bus that had been on the opposite lane seemed sufficient to leave all danger behind.

Yet this stretch of road had long unsettled many people. Year after year, fatal accidents occurred there. In some years, several individuals failed to return home after crossing it. These repeated tragedies chilled the hearts of locals whenever they spoke of them, yet traffic continued to flow, and residents still walked this familiar path every day.

On that day, Sister Lieu Nghiem did not cross recklessly nor step out suddenly. She had already reached the other side of the road. Yet the bus traveling in the opposite direction suddenly changed course, veering toward her. The gap closed rapidly. The engine roared, and the heavy vehicle slid off its normal path.

The driver, seated behind the wheel, clearly saw that Sister Lieu Nghiem was already on the other side. Under normal circumstances, he had no reason whatsoever to steer the vehicle to chase after her. But in that moment, his hands seemed to disobey his will. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his entire body tense, struggling to bring the bus back to its original direction.

"No! The car must go straight; do not swerve over there!"

But the vehicle continued to drift. A passenger sitting near the driver cried out in panic:

"What are you doing? Straighten the wheel!"

The driver frantically tightened his grip:

"I am trying! I cannot control it!"

The other person shouted again:

"There is someone ahead! Hit the brakes!"

All of this happened in a brief span of time. Sister Lieu Nghiem turned around. The bus, which should have continued along its own lane, was now rushing directly toward her. There was no space left to avoid it. A violent collision tore through the air, drowning out the engine noise and the screams of bystanders.

When the bus finally stopped, the scene became chaotic. Passersby rushed over, calling out to one another urgently. The driver sat frozen behind the wheel, his hands still resting on the rim. His face was pale, his breathing rapid. He knew he had caused a serious accident, yet he could not understand why the bus had followed Sister Lieu Nghiem all the way to the other side of the road.

Sister Lieu Nghiem did not survive. The tragic news reached the temple, leaving those who had lived and practiced alongside her in shock. The pain was harder to bear because she had been entirely in the right. The accident did not stem from a careless step by the nun, but from a vehicle that should never have appeared in that position.

Later, when questioned about the incident, the driver remained trembling. He reiterated that he had seen Sister Lieu Nghiem cross to the other side and had no intention of driving after her.

"I knew she had crossed over," he said, his voice hoarse. "What reason would I have to drive a bus to chase and hit her?"

The investigator asked sternly:

"But your vehicle changed direction. How do you explain that?"

The driver looked down at his hands:

"At that moment, I lost control. I knew I needed to correct the steering, but my hands did not obey."

The interviewer pressed further:

"Are you saying someone else controlled your steering wheel?"

He replied in distress:

"I only know that this was not what I wanted to do. I tried hard to stop the vehicle."

However, such explanations were difficult to accept during the investigation. Authorities had to rely on observable actions and consequences: the vehicle went off course, the driver lost control, and a life was taken. No one can use an unmeasurable feeling to replace the physical evidence on the road. Therefore, the driver still faced responsibility for the violation while operating the vehicle.

For those who knew this road well, the accident involving Sister Lieu Nghiem deepened their haunting fear. This place had witnessed similar deaths for many consecutive years. One person would pass away, and after some time, another would follow. Every skid mark and sudden brake made locals jump. For the temple, the death of Sister Lieu Nghiem was an irreparable loss.

This event also became a profound warning for anyone holding a steering wheel. Some believe that as long as they follow the law, have experience, and do not drink alcohol, they will surely be safe. But Sister Lieu Nghiem was in the right and still met with disaster because another person’s vehicle rushed toward her. The driver also claimed he recognized the danger but could not control the wheel as he wished. Just one abnormal moment took a life and pushed another person into regret and heavy responsibility.

In later times, whenever traffic accidents are discussed, this story is retold as an uncomfortable but necessary reminder. Pedestrians cannot rely solely on their own correctness and neglect observation. Drivers must never be angry, distracted, or overly confident in their skills. A large vehicle, if it deviates for just a few seconds, can become a threat even to completely innocent people.

The road in front of the church eventually saw vehicles and pedestrians again, like any other street. But for those who knew Sister Lieu Nghiem, that place remains forever marked by an emptiness. The story does not close with an easy explanation. It ends in pain, in caution regarding things humans do not fully understand, and in the reminder to maintain the highest sense of responsibility whenever stepping onto the road.

The Meaning of the Story

Accidents can affect even those who are in the right, so no one should be complacent about their own skill or carefulness. Drivers must always remain alert, kind, compliant with laws, and aware that a momentary loss of control can cause irreversible consequences.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thich Chan Quang