A Deadly Poisoning on a Plane and an Unshakable Faith

The dim yellow lights in the airplane cabin had long gone out, giving way to vast darkness and the steady snoring of passengers. The icy air from the ventilation system pressed against the skin, creating a stillness so quiet it felt eerie at thousands of meters above the earth. Within that false tranquility, a storm was silently erupting inside the body of a monk.

The master sat there, his eyes wide open but no longer able to see clearly. A sensation of numbness began to spread from the tips of his fingers, running up his arms and quickly taking over his entire body. He realized immediately: he had been poisoned. Perhaps it was from the food or water he had consumed earlier, but at this moment the cause mattered far less than the consequence. The poison was seeping deep into every cell, making each movement feel as heavy as carrying stones.

"I must get to the restroom," he told himself, trying to rise so he could expel the poison. But just as he attempted to stand, his limbs suddenly stiffened. Every ounce of strength in his body had drained away. He collapsed into his seat, his back striking hard against the soft cushion, and it hurt. His trembling hands reached for the armrest to steady himself, but they only hovered in the air, helpless and lifeless. His mouth opened, trying to cry out for help, but his throat felt as though someone had squeezed it shut, and not even a single sigh escaped.

Time passed slowly, like melting asphalt. Around him, everyone slept soundly. The flight attendants had also gone to rest after finishing the meal service. No one knew that just an arm's length away, a life was hanging by a thread. If the poison had struck a little harder, perhaps when the plane landed, the passengers would have been facing a cold, lifeless body instead of a revered teacher.

In that moment of utter despair, his mind no longer dwelled on fear or death. It turned to the one refuge, the most steadfast, that he had leaned upon his entire life. It was the image of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva — his guardian bodhisattva, the compassionate mother who always listens to the cries of suffering in the world. Since childhood, he had regularly chanted the Bodhisattva's name, and now, in this moment of life and death, that was all he had left.

"Namo Amitabha Buddha... Namo Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva..."

The silent chanting arose within him, each word and phrase like a stream of cool water pouring into the parched desert of his convulsing body. He gathered every remaining ounce of willpower into his breath and the chanting. He did not ask for supernatural powers, nor did he wish for a dazzling miracle — only absolute trust in the Bodhisattva's compassion. As the Universal Gateway chapter teaches, the wondrous power of chanting Avalokiteshvara's name can dispel poison, extinguish burning flames, and carry one across abysses and rushing currents.

Gradually, the sensations of agony and paralysis began to fade. They did not vanish suddenly, but receded little by little, like the tide drawing away from the shore. His breathing grew steadier. His stiffened fingers began to move gently. A feeling of warmth spread through his limbs, dispelling the icy cold of the poison. He lay there in silence, waiting until the plane touched down on the runway.

When the doors opened, daylight flooded in. The master rose, adjusted his robes, and walked down the stairs of the aircraft with a calm and composed bearing, as though he had never passed through a brush with death. The passengers around him still laughed and chatted, unaware that the man who had just walked past them had conquered death through an unyielding faith.

The meaning of the story:

This story illustrates the aspect of "Faith" in Buddhism, especially the power of chanting the name of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. While meditative concentration represents wisdom, faith in the blessings and protection of all Buddhas and bodhisattvas is the solid foundation that helps people overcome the life-and-death adversities of samsara (cycle of rebirth). The wondrous response is not superstitious magic, but the result of a pure mind and unshakable faith — a faith that steadies the spirit and activates the body's capacity for self-healing in critical moments.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang