“There are only two monks in this small temple—you and me,” a young monk said to an old monk. “People berate me behind my back whenever I go down the mountain and beg for alms,” continued the depressed little monk. “They say I am unruly.”
“Visitors to our temple don’t even leave enough money for us to buy incense. Master, how can our temple become a large one, with bells sounding continuously, as you had once said?” asked the little monk while sitting in the shabby little temple.
