The Hungry Man by the Roadside

Amid the stream of passersby, a poor man stood crouched by the roadside, his clothes worn old and his face hollowed out by hunger. The sounds of engines and footsteps blended together, while his plea was only a small, hoarse voice, at times nearly drowned out by the noise.

He had endured hardship long enough that his first shyness had worn away. Hunger churned in his stomach, leaving his legs too weak to stand firmly. He was not asking for a fine meal—only a little money to buy a loaf of bread, just enough to get through the moment of exhaustion before him.

When someone passed by, he took half a step forward, then froze. His hand reached out, fingers opening and closing in hesitation. He swallowed hard and tried to form the words:

"I am in such suffering (dukkha). I am so hungry. Please give me a little money to buy a loaf of bread."

The other person looked him up and down. In that mind arose a cold interpretation of cause and effect (karmic law): whoever goes hungry today must have created some cause in the past; to help would be to interfere with the karmic results he is meant to bear, would it not?

The inner struggle lasted only a moment. Instead of bending down to ask after him, the person replied:

"You are hungry like this because of your own cause and effect (karmic law). Perhaps in the past you were stingy; perhaps you once let others go hungry."

The poor man stood stunned, his hand still suspended between them:

"I am only asking for enough to buy a single loaf of bread. Right now I truly cannot bear it any longer."

The other person remained firm:

"If it is your karma, then you must endure it in order to repay it. If I help you now, am I not going against cause and effect (karmic law)?"

"But what if I collapse right here?"

"Each person must bear their own karma. You must try to endure."

With that, the person turned away and walked on. The poor man remained where he stood, shoulders slumped. The refusal not only left his stomach empty; it darkened his eyes as well. Amid all those passing figures, he had just been abandoned in the name of a principle that seemed so very correct.

But it is precisely there that the turning point of the story appears: words that sound correct about cause and effect (karmic law) can be entirely contrary to its spirit. It is true that a person's suffering (dukkha) does not arise out of nothing. Yet the law of cause and effect (karmic law) was never taught so that people could search for arguments to justify cruelty.

If we look only at the past faults of the one who suffers, we will say: "You did wrong things, and so today you go hungry." But in doing so, we overlook a part of cause and effect (karmic law) much closer at hand: why did that scene of suffering (dukkha) appear right before our eyes? Why did that cry for help arrive at the very moment we are able to reach out a hand?

The hungry man carries his own karma, but that encounter is also a moral test for the one who witnesses it. The suffering (dukkha) of others enters our lives not merely so that we may judge them; it opens an opportunity for us to sow a good seed, or at the very least to avoid sowing further indifference.

Once we understand this, the right action is not to turn our faces away. The passerby should stop, offer a little money—enough for the poor man to buy food—or hand him a loaf of bread directly.

"Take this. Get yourself something to eat first, to ease the hunger."

The poor man may look up, eyes still wary:

"Are you not afraid of going against my cause and effect (karmic law)?"

The one who helps should answer with sincerity:

"Your suffering (dukkha) has its causes, and they are yours. But meeting you today, I also have my own responsibility. I cannot use cause and effect (karmic law) as an excuse to abandon someone who is hungry."

A loaf of bread cannot resolve an entire life of poverty. Nor does it erase, all at once, every cause that gave rise to the suffering (dukkha). But in that moment, it keeps one person from collapse, and keeps another from falling deeper into coldness.

Understanding cause and effect (karmic law) rightly does not make the heart hard. On the contrary, it makes us more careful with each of our choices. Seeing someone in pain and rescuing them, seeing someone hungry and feeding them, seeing someone in danger and finding a way to protect them—that too is sowing a cause. And seeing suffering, then walking away while saying "each person bears their own karma"—that is sowing another kind of seed for ourselves.

From then on, whenever we come upon a pitiable situation, one who understands the way will not rush to investigate what that person did in the past. The first thing to do is ask ourselves: "Within my means, what can I give today?" Sometimes helping creates further blessings from merit; sometimes it mainly helps us lighten the mistakes we have accumulated. But it certainly preserves the humanity within us.

After finishing the loaf of bread, the poor man may go on with his arduous journey. The one who helped him returns to everyday life. The encounter lasted only a few minutes, yet the lesson remains: another person's karma is never a license for our own irresponsibility.

The Meaning of the Story

The law of cause and effect (karmic law) does not teach people to turn their backs on suffering (dukkha). Another person's karma is their circumstance—but it is also an opportunity for us to show our virtue, to rescue and help, and to sow good seeds for ourselves.

Adapted from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang