..续本文上一页deliver a sermon to the lay people present, but he declined the invitation, saying, "I”m afraid I”ve never practiced meditation. How could I deliver a meditation sermon

　　" He then went on to say, "I”ve learned that a great number of people here hold you in very high esteem. Monks like you are hard to find." With that, he returned to Wat Chanthanaram and then to Bangkok.

　　During my third rainy season there, the people in Chanthaburi came out in even greater numbers to hear my sermons, to the point where Nai Sawng Kui, the owner of the bus lines, felt moved to announce that he would give a discount to anyone who took his bus to hear the sermons of this ajaan (meaning me). As for myself and the other monks and novices in the monastery, we could take his buses anywhere in town free of charge. Day by day, more and more people — including the provincial governor and district officials in every district — came to know me.

　　When the rains were over, I went out to wander through the various townships in every district of Chanthaburi province, teaching and delivering sermons to the people. When I returned to the provincial capital, I would go almost every Sunday to deliver sermons in the provincial prison. At that time Phra Nikornbodi was provincial governor; and Khun Bhumiprasat, the district official in Thaa Mai (NewPort). Both of them seemed especially eager to help me get about. Sometimes they would ask me to give sermons to prisoners, either in the monastery or in the district offices. On other occasions, they would ask me to give sermons to the people in the different townships in Thaa Mai district, especially in Naa Yai Aam, a densely forested area crawling with bandits and thieves. I made a constant effort to keep on teaching the people in this way.

　　The provincial capital continued to be thick with incidents and rumors concocted by people hot-eyed with jealousy, but none of this ever fazed me in the least. Sometimes Khun Nai Kimlang, a supporter I respected as if she were my mother, would come to me and say, "They”re going to make things hard for you in all kinds of ways. They”ll either be sending women here, or else gangsters, looking for an opening to smear your name. 8 Are you up to the fight

　　 If not, you”d better go live someplace else."

　　So I”d answer, "Bring on two more Chanthaburi”s. I”m not going to run away. But I can tell you that as soon as there are no more incidents, I probably will want to run away."

　　I kept up my efforts to do good. Some villages in the province wanted meditation monks to come live on a steady basis, and in particular, Khun Bhumiprasat wanted monks to go live at Naa Yai Aam. I didn”t have any monks to spare, but I promised to find some for him. I sent a letter to Ajaan Singh, asking for monks, and he sent down a group of five who then went to set up a monastery in Naa Yai Aam.

　　This was a really poor village. They were hard pressed to find even a shovel to dig post holes for the monks" quarters. After I had sent the monks to live there, I got together a contingent of lay people — headed by Khun Nai Hong, wife of Luang Anuthai, and Khun Nai Kimlang — to go visit them. When we reached the monks" residence in Naa Yai Aam and saw the destitute conditions under which the villagers and monks were living, Khun Nai Kimlang lost her temper: "Here we”ve brought monks out here to suffer and starve! Don”t stay here," she told the monks. "Come back with us to Chanthaburi."

　　When Ajaan Kongma, the leader of the monks, heard this, he lost nerve and actually decided to return to Chanthaburi. As a result, the monastery fell vacant, with no monks staying on for the rains. After that, Ajaan Kongma went to start a monastery in Baan Nawng Bua — LotusMarsh Village — and trained the lay people there, and in this way helped …

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