the world of men the rich were now poor and the poor were now dead. Animals starved in fields and people starved in hovels. Human flesh was sold in markets, and this two-legged mutton was cheaper than the meat of dog. This was the world into which he was born.
He was a good child and toiled hard beside his parents, but in these times hard work was not enough to build a life or keep a family together. Side by side father and son scaled the mountain and spoke little. The sadness within his heart overpowered any joy that conversation might have brought. Abject poverty had dictated the decision made. When a young mouth can no longer be fed, an alternative must be found. They had told him about the monastery, and he had seen the orange clad monks on many occasions, but he had never wanted to become one.
Although he was only twelve years of age, he had already found his life’s love, and it was her that he would miss the most. Her family had lived here in the shadow of the mountain temple, they had been neighbors all of his short life, and now he would see her no more. As the climb leveled and the temple loomed before him, so did fate. The tears that streamed down the haggard face of his father fed the hollow feeling in his gut. A hard embrace would be a son’s last memory of the father that loved him but could not keep him. Pushed gently toward the temple’s novice gate, the boy stared down to hide his pain.
He sat alone and empty before the massive wooden doors, and thought about his love. He gathered every detail of her within his mind. The night fell like the cold relentless rain, and as the boy shivered, he vowed in heart to hold her memory.
His solitude was shattered with the arrival of the dawn, for with it came another youth. This one had traveled far and was equipped with a comfortable bed roll and a generous supply of food. The new arrival was not pleased to find another, but with an arrogant look he surmised quickly that his predecessor would offer no competition. Both boys were the same age but very different in both appearance and demeanor.
The first to arrive was undernourished and filthy. His unkempt hair lay matted to his forehead, and the rags that draped his skinny body held the odor of the fields. He looked more a beggar’s child than an aspiring monk. He stared blankly at his surroundings, downcast. Many in this time shared his look, much work and little food had taken their toll. Yet there was something different about him. Something intangible spoke that while everything about him was broken and weak, something within him was not. The boy was glad that although he had nothing, at least he was no longer alone.
The other was well fed and much bigger. Although he had traveled far from the capital, he still had the look of polish. Dirt did not stick to him. In manner he was confident and focused. He had prepared well for this moment. He had rehearsed answers for any questions, and knew what qualities these monks were looking for. Now all he had to do was wait quietly for the doors to open for him. He would not fidget or look impatient, but within the hour he did both. He thought perhaps he could intimidate his nemesis and saw quickly that any looks in that direction went unnoticed.
For five full days and nights the boys had sat and slept. One cold and hungry, one warm and well fed, one anxious to begin his life within the temple, and one who no longer cared for his life at all. The rains had lashed down until, late into the fifth night, the clouds cleared and the stars appeared. In the darkness that precedes the coming day, a meteor tore a bright swath across the glittering night sky and crashed far off in the distance. As if on cue, the gates opened and the abbot emerged to see what offerings the harsh seasons had brought his temple.
To the eyes of one, the abbot did not look like what he was expecting. For a temple that was supposed to have a vigorous training regime, this monk seemed small and unimposing. Where he had expected to see muscle he saw little definition at all. This abbot’s appearance resembled more the beggar boy than any soldier he had ever seen. He tried hard to hide his disappointment. The eyes of the other saw something else, and this one, who had seemed so broken, now gazed boldly and directly into the eyes of the old priest.
Rice and tea were brought, and neither lad moved until the abbot took first bite. The youth that sat on the thick bedroll was now politely eating, but the other urchin did not move at all. The abbot pointed invitingly but realized immediately that this small boy cared no longer whether he lived or died.
The abbot focused on the bigger boy, the one that had purposely made the long journey to join the temple. This one answered all questions asked with studied precision. He made it abundantly clear that all his life he had worked toward joining this temple. When the conversation ended, he sat confidently waiting for the outcome he felt was inevitable.
The old one turned his attention to the other and asked only one question, “Why do you want to join our order?” The mind of the youth formed no thoughtful reply. Instead the boy’s entire life flashed before his eyes. In less time than the beating of two hearts, it measured all he had suffered and all he had loved, and ended at the image of his only vow. He answered immediately and honestly, “I do not.”
The abbot’s laughter pealed out like bells upon the mountaintop, and his decision was as easy as it was immediate. This boy was probably trouble, but brought the gift of truth. The other youth watched in disbelief as the doors he had waited so long to enter were shut and bolted. Through the heavy oak he heard the abbot ask, “Your name, son?” and heard the soft reply, “Mah Lin.” He clenched his fists, gathered his rage, and spat upon the closed entrance with all his might.
Without food the homeward journey became a long and bitter march, and with this pain came new direction.
Four years would pass with only minor incidents, but this time the abbot had heard troubling rumors, and as he studied the face of the novice summoned before him, he knew that they were true. Discipline is the backbone of any sacred order, and the breaking of its trust could not go unnoticed. Mah Lin was still young and held much promise, but his surreptitious night foray must be addressed. The abbot was a kind man, and the monk before him had always reminded him very much of his younger self, headstrong and impetuous, and indeed a bit amorous. He smiled without explanation and thought carefully about the punishment that he would hand out.
“Mah Lin,” the abbot began as the young monk moved uncomfortably from side to side, “it has been told that you left these grounds at night and sought the arms of a woman.” Mah Lin looked at the floor, a look that was both an answer and a confession. He felt the silk tunic beneath his priestly robes and hoped the abbot did not know of this souvenir. The abbot continued, “This behavior is a bad example to those that look up to you. What could bring you to this reckless course of action?”
Without hesitation the young monk replied, “Love.”
Mah Lin was startled by the laughter bursting suddenly from the venerable one. When the abbot had finally collected himself he spoke in serious tone. “Yes, Mah Lin, love is by nature a very strong force, a force that helps to shape and bind the universe, and it is a force that heals and transforms both the body and the soul.” The old monk’s eyes reflected a journey far back into his own past, and that memory seemed to bring him joy. The eyes of the abbot caught Mah Lin and held him motionless with their intensity.
“From now you will concentrate on your physical training, perhaps if you are tired enough, desire and temptation will be lessened.” The abbot seemed satisfied with his own decision, and then said to Mah Lin, “Report back to me in one month. I need time to consider your permanent reprimand, and I do not want to seem headstrong and impetuous.” Once again the old one’s eyes seemed bright with laughter, and Mah Lin bowing, took his leave.
Mah Lin was confused as he walked down the corridor; the punishment dealt out was no punishment at all, for it was well known that he had taken to the martial disciplines like a bird
