One Million Dong Before Lives Left Behind

At a center in Ba Vi, before children with disabilities and elderly people with no one left, a teacher spoke about the responsibility not to turn away from suffering.

In a room at the center in Ba Vi that cares for orphans, children with disabilities, and the elderly, the footsteps of the visiting group suddenly grew quiet. On beds placed close together lay children with many deformities, and children with brain tumors that had swollen their heads. Some lay still, unable to care for themselves, their eyes silently gazing up at the ceiling. On the other side of the room were elderly people who no longer had any family by their side.

The Buddhist followers who had come with the teacher to visit the center had heard much about unfortunate lives, but seeing it with their own eyes, they could not hide their shock. The people here suffered not only from illness and pain. Many had also been abandoned by their families, unable to earn a living, with nowhere to turn if the center did not take them in.

The teacher walked slowly among the beds. Every face before him made the story of cause and effect (karmic law) no longer abstract. It is easy to say that whoever suffers does so because of their own karma. But standing before a child who could not even sit up, those words suddenly became too cold to speak aloud.

One Buddhist looked at the children and gently asked:

"Venerable teacher, we know these are truly pitiful lives. But if we speak in terms of blessings from merit, is helping them like making offerings to a genuine practitioner?"

The teacher did not answer right away. He invited everyone to sit down and then posed a specific question:

"Suppose we have one million dong. If we give it to an ordinary person, or make an offering of it to a virtuous practitioner, which case brings more merit?"

Almost everyone answered together:

"Making offerings to a virtuous practitioner brings more merit."

The teacher nodded, then asked further:

"An ordinary person is still living with a family, still has responsibilities to society. But if we give one million dong to someone who has lost clear awareness, who only lies in one place and can contribute nothing to the world, does that bring merit?"

The group suddenly fell silent. A few looked at one another, but no one dared to answer. If judged only by the recipient's ability to contribute, helping someone who lay motionless seemed to create no great benefit. Yet to say one should not help them made their hearts ache as they looked at the children before them.

One Buddhist spoke up cautiously:

"If that is so, does it mean we do not need to help places like this center, Venerable?"

The teacher looked around the room and replied:

"No. We need to make a clear distinction. When we offer money to a true monastery of genuine practitioners, we gain merit. When we give money to help a place of suffering like this, it may not add merit in the sense we just discussed, but it removes our transgressions."

Everyone continued to listen intently. The teacher pointed toward the people being cared for:

"In society there truly are people of extreme misfortune. They cannot support themselves, and their families have abandoned them. If society as a whole abandons them too, then society as a whole bears the guilt."

Someone asked in return:

"So when we all help, what changes?"

The teacher spoke slowly:

"When someone steps forward to care for them, society avoids the transgression of turning its back on the unfortunate. It may not add merit in the sense that those helped will create great benefit for the world, but our faults and our indifference are lessened."

Those words became a turning point in how everyone saw things. Before this, they were used to weighing good deeds by visible results: helping someone so that they could do many good things, making offerings where the merit would be greater. But in this place, the measure was not the recipient's ability to give back. The children and the elderly might never return anything at all. Precisely for that reason, taking them in is a test of the conscience of the whole community.

The teacher sought out the director and the staff of the center. These were people who, day after day, had to provide every meal, every night's sleep, every medicine, and every act of hygiene for those who could not care for themselves. Quiet, heavy work, repeated from one day to the next.

"You are representing the conscience of society and of this country," the teacher said. "Because you take in these people who have been left behind, society is spared the transgression of irresponsibility."

The director went quiet for a moment, then replied:

"We are only trying to give them a place to live and someone to care for them."

The teacher nodded:

"That which seems so ordinary is in fact profoundly important. If no one took on this responsibility, how would they live?"

A staff member standing nearby said softly:

"Many people here have nowhere else to return to, Venerable."

The atmosphere in the room grew even more still. The Buddhists who had at first hesitated now understood the answer. They no longer saw one million dong as a calculation of who would bring the greatest benefit. Before a life that was hungry, in pain, or without anyone to care for it, the first thing to do was not to turn away.

After the conversation, everyone took the initiative to learn about the center's needs so they could contribute. They understood that this act was not a favor granted by the fortunate to the unfortunate. It was the moral responsibility of those who are able toward those who can no longer save themselves.

The visit ended, but the images of the children with brain tumors, the disabled bodies, and the abandoned elderly followed everyone on the way home. The saying "each person bears their own karma" could no longer be used as a reason to step over the suffering of others. Cause and effect (karmic law) does not teach people to be cruel. Suffering (dukkha) appearing before our eyes is precisely the opportunity for each of us to examine our own morality.

From that day on, the story of one million dong was no longer about comparing amounts of money. It became a question for the conscience: when we meet a person who cannot live on their own, will we turn away because we believe they create no benefit, or will we bend down to lift them up, so that this society still holds human kindness?

The Meaning of the Story

The law of cause and effect (karmic law) is not a reason to abandon those who suffer. When unfortunate lives appear before our eyes, helping them is a moral responsibility, one that spares each person and society as a whole the transgression of indifference.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thich Chan Quang.