The Reporter and the Death Sentence

On a chilly morning in Hanoi, autumn breezes rustled through the trees. A man in his thirties, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, stood before the gates of the city’s largest prison. He was a reporter for a famous newspaper, visiting the warden—an old friend—to request an unusual favor.

He said with bright, eager eyes, "I want to write about the mindset of those on death row. But I cannot capture the truth from the outside. Let me pretend to be a condemned prisoner. I will sit alone in a dark cell, waiting for my execution date. After a few days, I will leave and write my article."

The warden, a middle-aged man with a kind face, laughed heartily. "You are truly reckless. But very well. I will create a fake file for you. Just remember, it is only for a few days. Then I will have someone bring you out."

And so, the reporter was placed in an isolated cell. For the first two or three days, he felt quite normal. Sitting in the cell, meals were brought to him, and he had no work to do. He even felt relaxed, thinking, "Is this what life is like for a death row inmate? There is nothing to fear here."

But on the fourth day, everything changed. At noon, when the guard arrived with food, the reporter noticed it was not the usual person. He asked, "Hey, where is the guard who was here yesterday?"

The new guard, a young man with a fierce expression, glared at him and shouted, "You are about to die! Why do you keep asking questions? Do you think you are my friend?"

The reporter was startled, his heart pounding wildly. He tried to stay calm and said, "I am a friend of the warden! Where is he?"

"The warden? He was transferred away several days ago. Someone else took over. Your file was handed over without any special notes. You are scheduled for execution. Only seven days remain," the guard replied coldly.

The reporter’s face turned pale. Cold sweat broke out all over his body. He rushed to the cell door, banging on it desperately. "I am innocent! I have committed no crime! I am just a reporter pretending to be here!"

The guard sneered. "Everyone who comes in here claims innocence. Be quiet and wait for your death."

In the following days, the reporter could not eat. Every night, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He screamed and banged on the door, but no one listened. The overwhelming terror—the feeling that death was approaching hour by hour—made him grow thin and frail. In the darkness, he wept uncontrollably, crying, "Oh heavens, am I really going to die? I still have a wife, children, and so many plans..."

On the seventh night, the lock clicked open. Two guards led him out. Trembling and unable to stand firmly, he believed he was being taken to the execution ground. But when he opened his eyes, he saw his friend, the warden, standing there with a gentle smile. "Well? Did you feel it? Go home and write your article."

The reporter felt both relief and anger. He shouted, "You scared me to death! I thought I was really going to die!"

Yet deep inside, he understood a profound truth. When facing death, if one lacks merit and spiritual practice, panic arises intensely. But if one lives virtuously and ethically, even death can be met with peace.

The Meaning of the Story

This story illustrates that confidence in the face of death comes only from living an ethical life and performing good deeds. Without such foundation, one becomes fearful and unsettled when confronting mortality. We should begin our spiritual practice now, so that we may face all life’s challenges, including death, with equanimity.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang