A Doctoral Student and the Ghost in a Foreign Land

Just four days after the temple completed the Vu Lan ceremony, the quiet afternoon was shattered by a ringing phone. On the other end, a young woman’s voice trembled with fear: “Teacher, please save me! A ghost has appeared in my room. It is not a dream; it manifested right in broad daylight!”

She cried out that she was living in student dormitories in Beijing. The spirit sat in the corner of her room during the day, terrifying her so much that she did not know what to do. This girl was no one easily frightened. In Vietnam, I knew her as a doctoral student of legal studies, stubborn and fearless, who had never been afraid of anyone. To continue her father’s legacy in traditional Eastern medicine, she traveled all the way to Beijing to earn her doctorate. She was so intelligent and bold that she feared neither heaven nor earth. Yet on that day, her voice broke into pieces as she repeated, “It appears in the daytime. I dare not move. I cannot change rooms because money is tight. As a stranger in a foreign land, where can I turn for support?”

The cause was her solitude in a strange country. After the intense preparations for the Vu Lan festival, she returned to her rented room at night, opened the door, and saw a faint figure sitting in the corner of her bed. She thought she was merely exhausted and experiencing visual disturbances. But when she rubbed her eyes, the shadow remained—cold and oppressive, making the air feel suffocating. For several days, she dared not turn off the lights, her heart pounding wildly at every gust of wind in the hallway.

On the third night, she clutched her pillow in a daze, tears falling onto the back of her hand. She wondered why someone so brave could be scared to the point of illness. If she returned home, where would the money come from? If she stayed, the apparition appeared even in the daytime. Her voice shook as she called me: “Teacher, should I drop out and run home? But that would waste my parents’ efforts. I have been crying all night.”

I spoke calmly through the line: “Even you, who are so brave, are afraid? Ghosts are not evil demons. They were once human beings who need love.”

“But I am too scared, Teacher. It appears clearly in the daytime!”

“Make offerings of rice for them. Chant sutras every evening. Do not fear, and do not hate. When your mind/heart is peaceful, their disturbance will cease.”

From then on, she began placing a small bowl of rice in the corner of her room. Every evening, she sat and chanted a few lines of the Buddha's teachings (Dharma). At first, her hands trembled, and her chanting was as soft as a buzzing mosquito. Strangely, the shadow faded, no longer sitting close to her bed. A week later, she called again, her voice steady: “Teacher, I have been chanting and offering rice. It seems they have stopped disturbing me, and I can sleep now.”

The turning point came when she recounted a specific night. The bowl of rice remained untouched, but suddenly her mind felt incredibly light, as if someone were comforting her: “Go home, child. Do not worry.” By morning, the corner of the room was empty, and the chilling sensation on her neck was gone. She realized that it was her lack of fear and her compassion that allowed the ghost to depart quietly.

She continued to stay in Beijing, regularly offering rice and chanting for the departed each afternoon. Months later, she completed her doctoral dissertation in Eastern medicine. She laughed and told her friends, “The ghost taught me how to fear, and then how to love.” Since then, every Vu Lan season, she sends gifts to the Phuc An Vien cemetery, saying that thanks to this lesson abroad, her heart has become lighter.

The Meaning of the Story

Those in the unseen realm were once human, filled with greed, hatred and delusion, and in need of love. When their presence frightens us, we should not hate or flee. Instead, we should make offerings of food and chant sutras to help them find peace. Compassion and the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) transform suffering, helping both the living and the departed to be free from pain.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang