The Youngest Sibling and the Small Plot of Land

On a weekend afternoon, the old three-room house of the Nguyen family suddenly felt unusually tense. The kettle boiled on the stove, yet no one moved to turn it off. On the wooden table in the center of the room, the document for dividing assets had been spread out long ago, but its lines remained blank. The eldest brother sat on the right, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sharp as a razor blade. The sister next to him constantly checked her watch, muttering calculations under her breath. Only the youngest sibling sat at the end of the table, holding a cup of hot tea, taking small sips while gazing out into the backyard where guava trees hung heavy with fruit.

The family consisted of three siblings. Their parents had passed away early, leaving behind a garden plot and an old house. The eldest brother worked in trade, calculating every penny meticulously. The sister had married far away but always worried about her share of the ancestral worship duties. As for the youngest sibling, he was originally an ordinary worker. However, since discovering Vien Quang Pagoda, he began practicing meditation and reciting the Buddha’s name, and his temperament changed completely. He no longer competed or argued with the world, wishing only to live peacefully and create merit.

The meeting took place in a heavy atmosphere. The eldest brother spoke first, his voice hoarse: “I am the eldest, so I must maintain our ancestors’ graves. The land facing the road will be mine to build a clan temple. The rest of the garden will be divided between you two.” The sister interrupted sharply, her face twisted in displeasure: “What strange words are those? I am your elder sister too; I also contributed to raising our youngest sibling. My share should be equal to yours!”

As they argued, their voices grew louder, cutting through the air like blades. The youngest sibling remained silent, sighing softly. He remembered a dharma talk from his teacher at the pagoda regarding the mind: “A person with a disturbed mind becomes angry, selfish, and combative. A person with a pure mind is tolerant and easily forgiving.” Looking at his siblings, he clearly saw the burden in their eyes and told himself that he could not become like them.

Finally, the eldest brother slammed the table and decided: “Enough. We will divide it into three parts. I take the largest portion, my sister takes the second, and the youngest gets the corner plot of the garden—tiny, just enough for him to build a shed.” Although dissatisfied, the sister nodded. Both turned to look at the youngest sibling, waiting for his reaction. Unexpectedly, he smiled gently and said softly: “That piece of land is quite poor. I yield it to you, sister. I can go out and work for myself.”

Both the brother and sister were stunned. The eldest asked, “Are you crazy? Without land, how will you survive?” The youngest sibling kept his smile: “I have my hands, my health, and I know how to make merit. Please do not worry. I do not need much.” He stood up, poured more tea for both of them, and then stepped outside, leaving astonishment in the old house. The eldest brother and sister looked at each other, speechless. They had secured the larger shares, yet their hearts felt strangely empty.

From that day on, the youngest sibling moved out, renting a small room near the market. He worked odd jobs, saved money, made offerings, and went to the pagoda to listen to the Dharma. Five years later, thanks to his diligence and virtue, he established a small grocery store. It provided enough for a living and left him time for spiritual practice. Meanwhile, his siblings continued to live in suspicion and guardedness toward one another. The old house grew increasingly cold. Once, the sister visited her younger brother and saw him living peacefully and healthily. She suddenly burst into tears: “Brother, back then I was too greedy. Now I understand that gaining land while losing harmony brings no joy.”

The youngest sibling simply comforted her: “Do not be sad, sister. If your mind is pure, anywhere is home. Just take it slow and stop competing, and all will be well.” Afterward, the sister also sought out the pagoda to learn the art of letting go. As for the youngest sibling, by maintaining a serene mind, his life became increasingly favorable. His children were obedient, and his family was happy. He often reminded others that human value does not lie in land or money, but in the stillness of the inner heart.

The Meaning of the Story

The profound lesson intended by Venerable Thich Chan Quang is this: A person with a disturbed mind easily falls into anger, selfishness, and conflict, causing suffering for themselves and others. A person who practices diligently and maintains a pure mind becomes tolerant, altruistic, lives in peace, and possesses true worth. Do not chase external material possessions; instead, return to inner stillness—that is the source of lasting happiness.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thich Chan Quang