The Businessman and Five Hundred Lives

At a seminar for entrepreneurs, in a spacious room filled with thoughtful faces, a man in his early fifties, his hair already touched with silver, sat quietly in the back row. His white shirt was faded, the cuffs frayed, yet his eyes shone with an extraordinary steadfastness.

He had spent over twenty years building his business from nothing. In the early days, he worked late and rose early, personally making deliveries, calculating every penny of profit. Gradually, his small garment workshop grew, providing jobs for five hundred workers. Five hundred people, five hundred families, all depending on their monthly wages from his company.

But then the economic crisis struck. Orders dwindled, material costs soared, and bank interest became an ever heavier burden. He would sit for hours in his office, staring at the accumulating losses on the spreadsheet. Some nights, unable to sleep, he paced his small room, asking himself: "How much longer can I hold on?"

One afternoon, his closest friend—a successful businessman—came to visit. Seeing his worn appearance, his friend said, "Why don't you just close the workshop? The more you operate, the more you lose, don't you see? Sell off the assets; it's better than pouring money into this bottomless pit."

He shook his head, his voice lowering. "I know. But think about it—five hundred people work here. If I shut down, where will they go? They have spouses, children, and elderly parents. I cannot let them lose their jobs just because I fear a loss."

His friend sighed. "You're kind to them, but have you thought about yourself? You're burning through your money."

"Money can be earned again. But five hundred lives cannot," he replied, gazing into the distance. "I still have the strength to endure a while longer. They work eight hours; I work twelve, sixteen. I stay up nights calculating, seeking new orders, cutting costs. As long as I can keep the workshop open, as long as I can preserve their jobs."

In the days that followed, he worked without pause. Early morning, he was already at the workshop, inspecting every stage of production. At noon, he quickly ate a bowl of rice with salted sesame, then returned to his desk. By evening, after the workers had all gone home, he sat before the computer, calling each partner, persuading them to place orders. Some nights, he fell asleep at his desk, phone still in his hand.

Once, the workshop manager saw him eating instant noodles in his office and said, "Boss, how can you keep up your strength eating like this? You must take care of your health."

He smiled gently. "It's fine. I'm strong enough. As long as you all have work and wages, I'm happy."

The years passed, and his business still ran at a loss, but he did not give up. He explored every possible solution: taking on more debt, mortgaging his house, even selling his family's only car. His wife sometimes complained, "Dear, we have almost nothing left. I'm so afraid."

He held his wife's hand and comforted her. "My love, money will come again. But if those five hundred people lose their jobs, how much they would suffer. I cannot bear to see that."

And then, after three years of crisis, the economy gradually recovered. Orders began to return. His efforts were finally rewarded. The business not only stopped losing money but started turning a profit. Yet what made him happiest was not the profit figures, but seeing that five hundred workers still had their jobs, still had wages to support their families.

They were grateful to him, but he only smiled. "I am the one who should thank you all. You have given me an ideal to live for."

The Meaning of the Story

The pinnacle of the business ideal is not the pursuit of profit, but the creation of jobs for many, contributing to the well-being and development of society. A businessman who dares to sacrifice personal interest to maintain the livelihood of others has truly entered the path of noble commerce.

Adapted from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang