The Miser Who Regretted His Offering

The afternoon sun in Shravasti cast long shadows across the red-tiled roofs. Inside one of the grandest houses in the capital, the atmosphere was heavy and strange. Servants huddled in a corner of the courtyard, their faces gaunt and clothes tattered, exchanging silent glances. At the gate, soldiers of King Prasenajit were busy loading chests filled with gold, silver, and jewels onto carts. Everyone knew that the master of this house, a notorious usurer, had just died without heirs, so his entire fortune was being confiscated by the crown.

People said he was incomparably wealthy. It would take seven days to transport all his assets. Yet while alive, he enjoyed nothing. He cooked both fresh and stale rice but ate only the old portion, saving the new until it became stale. He wore the most ragged clothes he could beg for, hiding away good garments for fear they might tear. He never gave alms or made offerings to temples. Even his hired workers looked pale and thin like moving shadows. They resented him openly but endured it for the sake of survival.

When news spread that the king’s men were seizing the estate, citizens flocked to watch, none feeling any pity. They wondered how such a miserly person could be so rich. Former employees sneered, saying, "What kind of wealth is this? He lived more miserably than a beggar on the street!"

One day, King Prasenajit visited the Jetavana Monastery to pay respects to the Buddha. After bowing, he sat down, his face showing deep concern. He asked, "Venerable Sir, I have just seized a massive fortune from a man who died childless. He was the wealthiest treasurer in Shravasti. My investigation revealed that he lived extremely ascetically, never eating well or dressing nicely, and never giving a single coin in charity. Yet his wealth took seven days to move! Logically, such riches should come from past merit. Why did he live so pitifully and die alone? I cannot understand."

The Buddha looked at the king with compassion and spoke slowly. "Great King, this treasurer has a distant past life. Back then, he was also a comfortable man living in a small village. One day, a Pratyekabuddha came to his home for alms. Out of habit, seeing a holy person, he ordered servants to bring food. But after doing so, looking at the leftover dishes, he suddenly felt regret. He thought, 'Why give them such fine food? Ordinary fare would have been enough.'"

The Buddha paused briefly before continuing. "That very mind of regret created powerful karma. However, because he had made an offering to a noble sage, he was reborn in heavenly realms for many lifetimes and eventually returned as a human, incredibly wealthy. Yet, due to a heavier evil karma, he had to pay the price. In a previous life, he had murdered his own nephew to seize inheritance from his brother. Because of that karma, he remained childless for many lives, living harshly and miserably. Now, the merit from his offering is exhausted. Upon death, he will fall into hell, suffering endlessly."

The king shuddered and clasped his hands together. "Venerable Sir, does this mean that his mind of regret caused him to torment himself through countless lifetimes? Did mere moments of stinginess lead to such suffering?"

The Buddha nodded. "Indeed. Just as water flows downhill, where the mind directs itself, karmic results follow. People often harbor selfish desires or wish misfortune upon others, but these thoughts eventually return to themselves. Conversely, if one practices rejoicing in the happiness of others and wishes them well, blessings will naturally come to oneself."

The king pondered for a moment and asked, "How can we avoid such a mindset of regret?"

The Buddha smiled gently. "Whenever you encounter anyone, silently cultivate a wholesome wish in your heart. You need not speak it aloud; simply sincerely hope for their peace and enlightenment. For example, when seeing someone beautiful, wish for them to renounce the world and practice the Dharma. When meeting a merchant, hope they learn to give generously and accumulate virtue. The more your mind turns toward goodness, the more blessings you receive."

Hearing this teaching, King Prasenajit felt his heart lighten. He reflected on the miserable yet wealthy treasurer and told himself, "I have status and riches, but if I do not keep my mind pure, I too may suffer endless torment."

From then on, whenever appearing before the people, the king silently wished for everyone to have enough food, warmth, and peace. He frequently visited the monastery to listen to the Dharma and encouraged others to make offerings with a joyful heart, free from regret.

The story of the miserly treasurer continued to be told among the people of Shravasti. They used it as a reminder that wealth is not what matters most. What truly counts is whether one’s heart knows how to share and rejoice in the happiness of others.

The Meaning of the Story

This tale teaches us that material possessions are not true blessings. Those who only accumulate and hoard, yet feel regret even after giving, find that their wealth becomes a burden that torments body and mind. Furthermore, our mental attitudes toward others inevitably return to ourselves. Therefore, practice rejoicing in the success and happiness of others, always wishing them well. This is the way to plant seeds of merit that cost nothing yet yield immense rewards.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang