The Virtuous Daughter-in-Law

In the evening sun over the city of Savatthi, light fell upon the red-tiled rooftops, and the air was hot and heavy, almost too thick to breathe. In a quiet room hidden behind the garden, the youngest daughter of Anathapindika sat silently by the window, her eyes gazing out at the dusty road. From childhood, her father had raised her in the teachings of the Awakened One, and her heart had always longed for a life of purity. Yet now she was preparing to become a bride in a home one hundred and twenty miles away, bound by a betrothal made when she was but a child.

She sighed, gently smoothing the hem of her garment. She had heard that her future in-laws were wealthy householders, but that they followed a strange sect called the Nirgranthas, whose ascetics wore not a single thread of cloth upon their bodies. This filled her with both curiosity and fear. But as a daughter already promised in marriage, she held back her tears and set out according to the rites.

Once in her new home, she fulfilled every duty of a daughter-in-law. She rose early to prepare the meals, swept and cleaned, and cared for her parents-in-law with devotion. Yet in her heart, she constantly remembered the Buddha and his teachings on compassion and wisdom. Each night, when everyone had fallen asleep, she would quietly sit in meditation, turning her heart toward Savatthi, where the Master still dwelt in the world.

One day, the wealthy householder invited the ascetics of his sect to his home for making offerings. When the young bride heard the news, her heart began to pound. She knew these men would appear with not a scrap of cloth to cover their bodies. Born and raised in a respectable family, she had never witnessed such a sight. When the footsteps of the ascetics sounded outside the gate, she panicked and fled deep into the garden, hiding behind a bush, her face pale, not daring to look out.

The offering ceremony dragged on. Only after night had fallen and the ascetics had departed did she timidly make her way back into the house. The moment she stepped over the threshold, the householder was waiting, his face red with fury. He pointed at her and shouted:

"You live in this house as a daughter-in-law, yet you do not know how to honor its ways! I invited the masters here, and you vanished without a trace. Do you despise my faith? Do you despise these venerable ascetics?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she remained calm. She bowed her head and spoke, her voice trembling yet full of respect:

"Father, please calm your anger. I already had a faith, a spiritual path, before I came here. The ascetics of my faith always wear proper and dignified robes, walk and speak with grace and decorum, and never expose their bodies. I cannot go against my own faith."

The householder frowned, yet something within him stirred. He asked:

"What is this faith of yours? Who is your teacher?"

She lifted her head, her eyes shining with conviction:

"Father, my faith is the way of the Buddha. My Master is the World-Honored One, and he resides in the city of Savatthi. He teaches us to live with compassion and wisdom, and to always guard our virtue."

Then she spoke of the Buddha, of his teachings, of wholesome conduct and liberation. She spoke with such warmth and devotion that the furious householder fell silent and listened. At last, he said:

"If your faith is as wonderful as you say, why not invite your teacher here so that I may meet him?"

Overjoyed, she bowed in gratitude. That very evening, she stood in the middle of the courtyard, joined her palms toward Savatthi, and made her request with deep reverence:

"World-Honored One, I am your disciple, now living in this distant place. Tomorrow, please come with the Sangha to my home to receive a meal, so that my family may hear the Dharma."

That night she stayed awake preparing food, arranging everything with the utmost purity. Her heart was full of faith, without a shadow of doubt that the Buddha would come.

The next morning, at Jetavana monastery, the Buddha donned his robes, took up his bowl, and walked out the gate. His disciples assumed he was going for alms as on any other day. But instead of entering the city, he stopped, then slowly rose into the sky, majestic in the open heavens. Everyone watched in astonishment. The Buddha flew over village after village, over rivers and mountains, and descended before the gate of the householder's home.

When the Buddha entered, the entire household stood speechless before his majestic countenance, radiant like a snow mountain in the night. The young bride hurried forward, knelt, and bowed with her head to the ground, offering water and food. After the meal, the Buddha gave a dharma talk. He spoke of cause and effect (karmic law), and of how true liberation lies not in outward forms but in the purity of the inner mind/heart. The householder and his whole family listened with minds opened and hearts awakened, and they asked to take refuge in the Three Jewels.

From that day on, the householder's home no longer worshipped the naked ascetics; in their place stood a dignified altar to the Buddha. And the young bride, through her steadfast faith and filial devotion, became a saintly laywoman revered by all.

Later, when his disciples asked the Buddha how he knew that someone was calling to him from afar, he smiled and recited this verse:

"The good person, though far away, shines clear as a snow mountain. The wicked person, though near at hand, is like an arrow shot in the night."

The Meaning of the Story

The story of the virtuous daughter-in-law teaches us that a person with a kind heart/heart and wholesome virtue, even living far away, will be known and respected by others, like a snow mountain glowing in the darkness. Conversely, a wicked person, no matter how near, remains unseen, like an arrow shot into the black night. The Buddha did not praise his own supernatural powers, but praised those with gentle, wholesome hearts, for it is their faith and virtue that work wonders. May we follow this example, living fully in authentic faith, and always guarding our virtue in every circumstance.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang.