old-path-white-clouds-thich-nhat-hanh

Isidatta did not answer.
In fact, Citta had already guessed that the young bhikkhu sitting before him was Isidatta. He asked, “Can it be that you yourself are
Bhikkhu Isidatta?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Isidatta.
Citta was overjoyed and exclaimed, “This is a great honor for me! Respected Venerable Isidatta, my mango grove and private residence
in Macchikasanda are refreshing places equipped with every convenience. I hope you will come to visit us often. We offer you whatever
you may need—food, robes, medicine, or a place to stay.”
Isidatta did not say anything. The bhikkhus thanked Citta and departed. Svasti later heard that Isidatta never returned to Citta’s home.
Isidatta did not desire lavish praise or offerings, not even from such a well-respected man as Citta. Though Svasti did not meet Isidatta
again for some time, the image of the bright and humble bhikkhu remained engraved on his mind. Svasti pledged to follow Isidatta’s
example and to seek him out whenever he had a chance to pass through Avanti.
Svasti knew how much the Buddha loved young bhikkhus who showed determination, wisdom, and concern for the welfare and
happiness of others. The Buddha expressed how greatly he depended on these young monks to transmit the teaching to future generations.
However, Svasti observed how devoted the Buddha was in teaching all the bhikkhus, regardless of their individual abilities. Some monks
encountered more difficulties than others. There was one monk who abandoned the community six times but was still welcomed back by
the Buddha for another effort. The Buddha never ceased to offer kindly encouragement to those monks who found it difficult to remember
even such simple practices as the sixteen methods of observing the breath.
There was a monk named Bhaddali who lived at Jetavana. The Buddha was well aware of Bhaddali’s shortcomings, but he chose to
overlook them in order to provide the bhikkhu with an opportunity to transform himself. Bhaddali seemed incapable of following a number
of monastic disciplines. For instance, during meals every bhikkhu was expected to remain seated until he had finished eating. Standing up
during the meal for second helpings or to tend to other tasks was not allowed. This discipline was called One Sitting for Meals. Bhaddali
never managed to remember this discipline. His behavior around the monastery was a frequent cause of distress to the other bhikkhus. The
Buddha called him aside a number of times and taught him to ask himself this question every morning upon arising, “What can I do today to
contribute to the community’s happiness?” But after several months, Bhaddali appeared to have made little if any progress. A number of
bhikkhus grew impatient with Bhaddali and spoke harshly to him. Aware of this, one day the Buddha addressed the community.
He said, “Bhikkhus, although an individual in the sangha may possess a number of serious flaws, there undoubtedly remains within him at
least a few seeds of faith and love. We must relate to such an individual in a way that will protect and nurture those seeds of faith and love,
lest they, too, perish. Take the example of a person who loses an eye in an accident. His family and friends will do everything in their power
to protect his remaining eye, because they know how bleak his future will be if he loses it. Thus, bhikkhus, help protect the seeds of faith
and love in your brother by treating him kindly.”
Svasti was present when the Buddha spoke these words. He was deeply moved by the Buddha’s loving attitude. He looked up and saw
Ananda wiping away tears and knew that Ananda, too, had been touched.
Although the Buddha was kind-hearted and gentle, he could also be stern when the occasion called for it. A person who could not be
helped by the Buddha was truly a person without a future. One day Svasti was present when a short but impressive conversation took
place between the Buddha and a man called Kesi, who was a well-known horse trainer.
The Buddha asked Kesi, “Can you please explain to us how you go about training a horse?”
Kesi answered, “Lord, horses have different temperaments. Some are quite docile and can be trained by the simple use of gentle words.
Others are more difficult and require a firm hand along with gentle methods. Others are still more stubborn and require the use of firm
discipline alone.”
The Buddha laughed and asked, “What do you do when you encounter a horse that won’t respond to any of those three methods?”
“Lord, in that situation it is necessary to kill the horse. If it is allowed to live with the other horses, it will spoil them all. Lord, for my part,
I would like to know how you train your disciples.”
The Buddha smiled. He said, “I do the same as you. Some monks respond to gentleness alone. Others require firmness along with
gentleness. Others can only make progress when given stern discipline.”
“And what do you do in the case of a monk who doesn’t respond to any of those methods?”
The Buddha said, “I do as you do. I kill him.”
The horse trainer’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? You kill him? I thought you were against killing.”
The Buddha explained, “I do not kill him in the same way you kill a horse. When a person does not respond to any of the three methods
we’ve just discussed, we refuse to let him join the sangha of bhikkhus. I do not accept him as my student. That is an extreme misfortune.