When Children Play and the Verse on Wrong View

In early summer, the sun cast golden streaks through the leaves, lighting up the wide dirt courtyard before the gates of the city of Savatthi. A gentle breeze carried the scent of young grass and the chirping of birds in the mango branches. Children came running barefoot out of the narrow alleys, their laughter ringing out like jade bells striking together. They did not know what faith their parents followed, nor did they care about distant rituals. One child still had sand clinging to their hands, another's hair was tangled and wild—they simply wanted to play together before the midday heat came down.

"Hey, want to go catch crabs by the stream?" shouted a boy in a brown shirt, waving a banana leaf as a pretend sword.

"Let's go, I brought a basket!" the other called, waving a small woven bamboo basket.

Yet as soon as they returned home, that joyful atmosphere vanished. Their parents, each following a different faith, looked at one another with unease. Families of other faiths frowned slightly upon seeing their children playing with the children of the Buddha's disciples.

The story began when the Buddha, in his later years, often resided at Jetavana Monastery in the city of Savatthi. Before this, he had rarely come to the northern regions, spending most of his time in the south, east, and west. When he came to Savatthi, many people took refuge, but many families still kept to their old faiths. Parents of different faiths looked at one another with quiet suspicion, but the children paid no attention and played freely together. Then those parents, seeing their children playing with the little ones who followed the Buddha, scolded them once they got home:

"That is not our faith. You are not allowed to play with them, do you hear?"

The children bowed their heads, clutching the hems of their shirts, tears rolling down their cheeks, not daring to argue. Sadly, they stopped playing. But after only a few days, childhood's natural love of fun drew them back together in secret. This time they ran far outside the city, to a wide, cool, open space near Jetavana Monastery. After playing for a while, they grew thirsty. The children of the Buddha's disciples ran quickly into the monastery to ask for water, then brought it out to share with their friends. After they drank, the Buddha called all the children inside.

In that cool thatched hall, he looked at the children with gentle eyes and asked:

"What faith do you follow?"

The Buddha sat in full lotus posture, and in a deep, warm voice he taught them about cause and effect (karmic law), karma, and what is good and what is harmful. When the children finished listening, their eyes shone like stars. Delighted, they all took refuge with him.

At dusk, the children skipped happily home. But as they stepped over the threshold, they froze. Their parents already knew what had happened, their faces pale with anger, their voices trembling:

"Heavens, our children have joined those Gotama ascetics! How can children of this faith abandon the faith of their parents!"

The scolding rang out. The little ones clung to their mothers' arms, hands trembling, unable to explain themselves. Their parents, agitated and tense, saw it as a wrongdoing. The children shrank back, hearts tightening, unable to understand why their simple joy in playing had become a sin.

Yet after several days of tension, kind neighbors—themselves disciples of the Buddha—saw the situation and came to offer comfort. They sat down and spoke gently:

"Do you not see how much the children suffer when you act this way? We do not yet know which faith is right, but seeing your tense attitudes, the little ones grow anxious and lose their joy. Seeing your children happy together—life like that is already beautiful. What is there to be so harsh about?"

The parents were stunned, pressing their hands to their foreheads. "But they follow a different faith from us!"

The neighbors smiled kindly. "Take your time and look into it for yourselves. You simply do not know yet. Do not let the joy of childhood become a fault."

Thanks to that advice, the parents softened and stopped making things tense. They also grew curious: "What does the Buddha teach that our children follow him so completely?" So they came to Jetavana to hear him teach the Dharma. The Buddha did not say their faith was wrong. He simply said:

"Do not see what is right as wrong, and do not see what is wrong as right. Children rejoicing together beyond the boundaries of religion is no fault."

Hearing this, their hearts filled with joy, and some of them also took refuge in the Buddha. Then the Buddha recited this verse: "Seeing fault where there is none, and no fault where there is fault—by holding to wrong view, beings fall into evil realms. Knowing fault where there is fault, and no fault where there is none—by holding to right view, beings go to good realms."

The turning point of the story comes when those kind neighbors appear, and with gentle words they reverse the parents' state of mind, helping them realize: preventing children from playing together out of religious prejudice is wrong, while letting them play together innocently is right. In that very moment, the tension dissolved like morning dew.

Afterward, those families lived in harmony. The children were free again to run and play in the courtyard, their laughter ringing out each evening. Their parents occasionally came to listen to the Dharma, no longer scolding their children over matters of faith. Life in Savatthi grew gentler, and human kindness rose above the barriers of religion.

Many years passed, and those children of long ago grew up with their innocent smiles never lost. The parents of those days now sit and tell their children and grandchildren: the joy of childhood carries no fault, and the advice of a good friend is more precious than gold. The lesson of wrong view and right view sank deep, helping the whole village grow less divided.

## The Meaning of the Story

This story shows that children playing together is right and carries no fault; using religious boundaries to forbid it is wrong view—seeing the right as wrong. Conversely, clearly understanding right and wrong, and letting people love one another beyond prejudice, is right view, which leads to good realms. The advice of the wise also has the power to transform afflictions (kleshas) into peace and joy.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang.