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The Man Who Never Gave Money to Charity

A devout man, enthusiastic in running charitable work, yet who had never contributed a single coin. Hidden behind this was a suffering that few could have imagined.

In a warm, intimate dharma talk, amid conversations about the teachings and compassion, the teacher suddenly remembered a man he had once met. His gaze grew distant, as if looking back at the image of that man in his memory.

Let us call this man Tam for now. He was someone who understood the teachings deeply and loved the Dharma sincerely. He participated in charitable activities, managed the work, and helped everyone. But there was one strange thing: he never contributed even a small coin to the charity fund. Everyone found this odd, but no one asked. Some thought he was stingy; others thought he was indifferent.

One day, the teacher had a chance to speak with him privately. The teacher gently asked:

"Tam, I see that you are very devoted to the charitable work, but why have I never seen you contribute anything?"

Tam lowered his head and remained silent for a long while. His hands trembled slightly, and then he sighed:

"Venerable teacher, I truly want to, but I cannot. I have to save every coin for my own food."

The teacher was surprised and looked closely at the man before him. He did not appear to be starving, but the teacher could sense a harsh austerity in his eyes. The teacher asked further:

"Do you have some problem with eating?"

Tam hesitated, then said:

"Yes, teacher, I eat a great deal. I eat without ever feeling full. My need for food is very large. If I do not set money aside, I fear I will go hungry. That is why I dare not do any good deeds at all."

The teacher fell silent. Suddenly, he understood everything. It was not stinginess, nor indifference, but a hidden suffering arising from his body, from a physiological need so great that he had to pour everything into providing for his food. The teacher looked at him with eyes full of compassion:

"Tam, I understand now. You are not a stingy person, but someone bearing a great suffering. Only because your need for food is so great have you had to stop all acts of generosity. This is truly pitiable. A person like you, if you continue this way, will be poor life after life, because your body keeps pressuring you like this."

Hearing these words, tears rolled down Tam's cheeks. He said, choked with emotion:

"I know this too, but I cannot do otherwise. Every time I spend money on a good deed, I feel afraid—afraid that tomorrow I will have nothing to eat. I know I am wrong, but I cannot control it."

The teacher said gently:

"Please understand that this very body is the root of all suffering. It makes you worry, makes you preoccupied, makes you stingy. But if you know how to contemplate the body's impermanence (anicca), you will see that it is only a mass of matter changing with every second. When you see this, you will feel less fear, cling less to the body, and compassion will open within you."

Tam sat quietly, as if absorbing each word of the teaching. From then on, he began to practice contemplation, learning to see the body as something that was not himself. He still ate a great deal, but he was no longer afraid as before. He began to set aside small amounts of money for charity, even if it was only to buy a loaf of bread for the poor.

Gradually, Tam felt his heart grow lighter. He was no longer haunted by the fear of going hungry. He understood that happiness does not come from clutching money tightly, but from giving with an open heart.

The Meaning of the Story

This story teaches us that when we see someone behaving unusually, we should not rush to judge them. We should seek the deeper causes—in the body, in circumstances, in hidden sufferings. Only by understanding the root can we feel compassion and help in the right way. At the same time, the story reminds us that the body itself is the foundation of self-clinging and suffering, and so we should contemplate the body's impermanence (anicca) in order to gradually practice letting go.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang.

AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.

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