A Girl Leaps into Raging Waters to Save Her Friends

On a withered autumn afternoon, a piercing wind swept across a dike in the North. The water below was not calm as usual, but churned violently, dragging threads of white foam onto the wild grass. Four young girls, cheeks pink from the wind, stood laughing at the water's edge, waving dry reeds. They did not know the river, swollen from upstream rains, was raging.

"Hey, look at that fish swimming so close, can we catch it?" one called out, leaning forward.

The laughter had not faded when the slippery grass caused them to fall. Four small bodies tumbled down, splattering red mud, before the swift current pulled them into the deep. Desperate cries shattered the quiet air: "Help me, help!"

The children had been playmates since they were three, growing up together in a poor village. That day, they had asked their mothers to play by the dike because it was stuffy at home. No one imagined this carefree outing would become a rendezvous with death. The river, running fast after days of floods, had silently risen, swallowing the grassy bank.

The quickest girl in the group, who swam well thanks to her father's early lessons, managed a few strokes after falling in. Seeing her friends struggling, her heart constricted, tears mixing with the river water. She wrestled with herself: 'If I go to save them, this strong current will take me too, but how can I watch my friends die?' She turned to the bank, where a few adults were running towards them, and shouted:

"They fell in! Won't someone go down and save them?"

"The water's too strong, I can't swim!" one man replied, shaking his head and stepping back.

Unable to wait, the girl clenched her teeth. Her body trembled with cold and fear, yet she plunged back into the current. She swam to the nearest friend, grabbing her hair to pull her in. Then the second, and the third, were also dragged to shallow water. After each rescue, her breath came in ragged gasps, her shoulders aching.

"There's still one more!" she gasped, pointing to the middle of the stream.

"You're too tired, stay there!" the adults on the bank shouted.

"She's sinking, let me!" the girl cried, tears streaming, before turning to jump in once more.

The critical moment arrived as she was utterly exhausted, her limbs feeling like lead. The last friend was struggling in mid-stream, eyes wide with terror. She understood profoundly: 'I have only a tiny bit of strength left, but this friend will truly die if I don't go.' A profound compassion arose within her, stronger than her fear. She summoned her last ounce of strength to push her friend towards the shallows. As her hand let go, a violent wave swept her away, and she vanished.

The adults recovered her body the next morning; her face still looked peaceful. They buried her on a high mound, and the whole village came to pay respects, humbled by her small, brave heart. She had traded her own life for the lives of her four friends.

Years later, in every rainy season, the elders would tell this story to the children. They grew up carrying its lesson: true courage is not in words, but in the leap into the waters of death. As the teaching says, her spirit has returned to the joyful heavenly realms.

**Meaning of the Story**

Moral courage is the willingness to face danger to do good. When such effort surpasses all limits, even trading one's life, the merit becomes boundless, guiding the brave one to a blessed realm.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang