A Garland Suspended in the Void

In the early morning at the capital of Shravasti, dew still clung to the leaves in the garden of a devoted lay follower. The sound of horse-drawn carriages echoed from outside the gate as several poor travelers, whom he had sheltered, carried sacks of rice and smiled with gratitude before returning home. He stood there, dressed in neat white robes, watching them leave with kind eyes, asking for nothing in return.

“My children, once you have helped me with my tasks, please go on your way. Take care of your health on the long journey. If you pass by again, I will be happy to help!”

He was not as wealthy as his friend Anathapindika, but he had enough provisions and was renowned throughout the city for his generosity toward strangers. For decades, he actively sought out those who were poor and stranded in the capital, offering them lodging and work before sending them home. Notably, he regularly made offerings to the monks—the holy Sangha during the time of the Buddha. He also taught all fourteen of his children this practice of merit-making, requiring them to take turns making offerings, cultivating not just material wealth but the virtue of their lineage.

When old age weakened him, he fell ill, yet unlike ordinary people, he knew clearly that he would pass away in three days. He gathered his fourteen children around his bed and spoke with calmness.

“I know that in three days, I shall depart. Before I die, I wish to hear the monks recite the Discourse on the Four Foundations of Mindfulness—the path the World-Honored One praised as the most noble.”

His eldest son asked earnestly, “Father, I will go to the Buddha and ask him to send bhikkhus to chant for you.” A young daughter, her eyes red with tears, whispered, “Father, I am afraid you will let go…” He smiled, holding each child’s hand gently. “I am not afraid, for I have lived a life of goodness, and death is as light as the wind.”

On the appointed day, the bhikkhus arrived. Lying down with hands clasped, unable to sit up, he asked to listen to the sutra. The Sangha began to chant: “There is one path alone that leads to liberation…” As their voices harmonized, he closed his eyes and settled his mind. Suddenly, a vision appeared: the ceiling vanished, replaced by a brilliant sky where celestial chariots hovered, inviting him.

The devas of the Yama realm shouted, “Please board our chariot!” The realms of the Four Great Kings called out, “Come back with us!” Even Indra’s heaven and Tusita heaven clamored, “Sir, get into this vehicle!” The noise of the heavens was so loud that he could no longer hear the chanting. He opened his mouth and said, “Please, everyone, be quiet! Let me listen to the sutra!”

Outside, the chanting bhikkhus stopped abruptly. Hearing him say “be quiet,” they mistakenly thought, “Is he not ready to depart? We should rest so he can find peace.” His children were saddened. “Father said he would die today, why did he stop the monks?” He explained that heavenly beings had appeared, then asked, “Among these realms, which one has the Buddha teaching the Dharma?” They replied, “Tusita Heaven has Bodhisattva Maitreya preaching the Dharma.” He decided, “I will go to Tusita Heaven.”

This was the turning point. One of his sons took a garland of flowers and threw it onto the roof, praying it would stick to the celestial chariot. The garland remained suspended in mid-air—no one saw the chariot, but the hanging flowers were clearly visible. Everyone was astonished; the vision his father described was real.

He smiled, breathed his last, and a sweet fragrance filled the air. Light flared brightly and then faded, while music drifted away. The bhikkhus returned to the monastery and reported to the Buddha, “World-Honored One, the man asked us to stop chanting midway.” The Buddha replied, “He was not speaking to you; he was telling the devas to be silent. Now, he has gone to Tusita Heaven.”

Since then, his family maintained their practice of merit, and his descendants continued making offerings. The echo of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness seemed to linger, reminding all that doing good in this life brings multiplied joy in the next.

The Meaning of the Story

Those who live virtuously, care for the needy, and make offerings to the Sangha reap happiness in this life and are reborn in fortunate realms afterward. Believing in cause and effect (karmic law) and teaching children virtue is the way to sustain peace and joy for generations.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang