..续本文上一页 it — so I jumped up, grabbed a club and beat it to death on the spot. Immediately, I was sorry for what I had done. "How on earth can I make up for this sin

　　" I thought. So I found an old book with a chant for sharing merit that I memorized. I then went and worshipped the Buddha, dedicating the merit to the dead dog. This made me feel better, but my whole train of thought at that time was that I wanted to be ordained.

　　In 1925, when I was 20, my stepmother died. At the time, I was living with relatives in Bang Len district, Nakhorn Pathom province, so towards the end of February I returned home to my father and asked him to sponsor my ordination. I arrived with about 160 baht in my pockets. Soon after my arrival my elder brothers, sisters, brothers-in-law, etc., flocked around to see me — and to borrow money: to buy water buffaloes, to buy land, to use in trading. I gave them all they asked for, since I was planning to be ordained. So in the end, out of my original 160 baht, I was left with 40.

　　When ordination season arrived, my father made all the necessary arrangements. I was ordained on the full moon day of the sixth lunar month — Visakha Puja. Altogether, there were nine of us ordained that day. Of this number, some have since died, some have disrobed, leaving only two of us still in the monkhood — myself and a friend.

　　After my ordination I memorized chants and studied the Dhamma and monastic discipline. Comparing what I was studying with the life I and the monks around me were leading made me feel ill at ease, because instead of observing the duties of the contemplative life, we were out to have a good time: playing chess, wrestling, playing match games with girls whenever there was a wake, raising birds, holding cock fights, sometimes even eating food in the evenings. 2 Speaking of food in the evenings, even I, living in this sort of society, joined in — as far as I can remember — three times:

　　1) One day I felt hungry, so in the middle of the night I got hold of the rice placed as an offering on the altar and ate it.

　　2) Another time I was invited to help deliver the Mahachaad sermon 3 at Wat Noan Daeng in Phai Yai (BigBamboo) township. It so happened that my turn to read the sermon came at 11 a.m. By the time I had finished, it was after noon, so it was too late to eat. On the way home I was accompanied by a temple boy carrying some rice and grilled fish in his shoulder bag. A little after 1 p.m., feeling really tired and hungry, I told the boy to show me what was in his bag. Seeing the food, I couldn”t resist sitting right down and finishing it off under the shade of a tree. I then returned home to the temple.

　　3) One day I went into the forest to help drag wood back to the temple for building a meeting hall. That night I felt hungry, so I had a meal.

　　I wasn”t the only person doing this sort of thing. My friends were doing it all the time, but were always careful to cover it up.

　　During this period the thing I hated most was to be invited to chant at a funeral. When I was younger I would never eat in a house where a person had just died. Even if someone living in the same house with me went to help with a funeral, I”d keep an eye out, after he returned, to see from which basket he”d eat rice and from which dipper he”d drink water. I wouldn”t say anything, but I”d be careful not to eat from that basket or drink from that dipper. Even after I was ordained, this habit stayed with me. I was 19 before I ever set foot in a cemetery. Even when relatives died — even when my own mother died — I”d refuse to go to the cremation.

　　One day, after having been ordained a fair while, I heard people crying and moaning in the village: Someone had died. Before long I caught sight of a man carrying a bowl of flowers, incense and candles…

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