The Buddha Statue

-by Simon Bell

Deep in the mountains of the east, there lies an ancient temple. The path is worn thin with the steps of devoted monks, and the rocky crags have heard many a pious prayer. At the entrance, a beautiful Buddha statue sits, carved from pure white marble. For generations and generations, all who stood before it have marveled at its beauty. But come a bit closer, weary traveler, and listen carefully. Behind its unblemished surface is a tale of suffering and faith. Lend me your ears, weary traveler, and I shall tell you his story.

Hundreds of years ago...

Once a sculptor sat before two slabs of marble. All his life he wanted to create something meaningful, something so powerful and beautiful it would inspire generations to come. He wanted to sculpt his legacy.

And so he pondered long and hard. But when the temple bell tolled to signify the dawn, he looked to the mountains and instantly knew. Two Buddha statues, he decided. Two statues for the humble temple in the mountains of the east. He would place his work at the entrance, where all who came to pray would be moved by the serenity and beauty of his work.

So he got out his tools and mined from the mountains two slabs of crude marble.

"From this day onwards, I will carve you two into magnificent Buddha statues," he said, "but be warned, the process will be long and filled with suffering. There is much I need to chip away before I am done, will you promise to bear the pain?"

And the two slabs of marble bowed before the sculptor, "We can bear the pain," they promised. "Do away as you will, for we shall endure until the end."

And so the sculptor was pleased, and he took out his hammer and chiseled away. Day after day he struck at the marble, and day after day he chiseled away the impurities. Time trickled by and the statues bravely bore the pain. They remembered their promise and suffered silently. But as the days dragged into weeks, and the weeks dragged into months, one statue began to waver in his faith. 

"How much longer until the end?" he would ask, "So much of me has been chipped away, how much more must I endure?"

And the other statue would reply, “just a little longer, just a little more! Have faith my brother, have hope!”

But the first statue would falter and doubt the sculptor. "I'm scared of the pain", he would admit, "and I'm scared of the future. How can I continue when I can't see what lies ahead? What if l do not have what it takes to become a Buddha statue?"

"You must trust and be patient," the second statue would always reply, "you are worthy, you are gold, and I am right here beside you. Have faith and together we will make it to the end."

And the first statue would find strength in his words and endure a bit more.

The months blurred into years and still the sculptor scraped painstakingly away. Whenever the first statue lost heart or couldn't find his way, the second statue was always there to give him hope. So selfless and kind was his support that his compassion would eventually move his friend to tears. "No matter what," one day the first statue said to the second, "Soon we will sit together in the temple of the east. We have endured so much, and I can feel that the end is near. No matter what, we will complete our promise together."

And at last one morning the sculptor finished his work. Before him stood two beautiful Buddha statues unmatched in craftsmanship and beauty. He smiled at what once had been mere marble and rock, and was proud of his work. Now he would have not one, but two wonderful statues to display in the temple. Yet he had toiled long and hard, and was clumsy in his weariness. As he struggled to cover the statues with a piece of canvas, his hand slipped and he knocked over the second statue..

CRACK!

The sculptor leapt back in horror. A long jagged streak now marred his once perfect sculpture. He picked up the statue and was speechless with remorse. The damage could not be undone, the statue could not be saved. Years and years of hard work had been ruined in a single moment. Once, two statues would have stood in the temple of the east. Now, there could only be one.

He took the ruined statue aside and spoke to him sadly.

"My brave little statue," he said, "All these years you have endured in silence. You have suffered and persevered through your hardest trials, and never lost faith in me. In your darkest hours, you have never given up hope, and you have never hesitated to share your strength with others. Do not think that I have not seen your struggles. If there is anybody that deserves to sit in the temple it is you, yet it breaks my heart to tell you that now it cannot be so."

And the broken statue listened quietly, but when he spoke he was calm.

"Alas dear sculptor," he said, "what has happened has happened, and I cannot blame you. For perhaps this is my fate, and I accept my destiny. Yet what pains me the most is that now since I am worthless, I cannot inspire man's faith in the divine. I cannot complete my promise.

And the sculptor was humbled by his words, yet filled with anguish. He thought hard for a while, then spoke.
 

"My selfless statue," he said quietly. "lf you are determined to devote your life to the temple, there is another way that you can achieve your goal. I can grind you down to powder to line the tiles of the temple floor. But be warned, you will be stepped on and trodden upon as people walk over you to pay homage to others. You will go unheeded as monks stand on you to pray. There will be no honor and no respect, and your sacrifice will go unnoticed. The process will be a thousand times more painful, and the glory a thousand times less."

Yet upon hearing the sculptor's words the statue was filled with hope and did not hesitate to answer.

“Oh sculptor, then I beg of you,” he said, quivering with joy, "Grind me down, grind me down! I do not fear the pain or the suffering. I do not care for praise or recognition. As long as I can serve my purpose then I will go without complaint. As long as I can fulfill my promise then I have no regrets!"

And the sculptor was moved to tears by his selflessness. "Then, little statue," he said. "I am humbled by your sacrifice. May you find your peace."

And the statue smiled through his own tears and said, "Good-bye my sculptor, if this be my destiny, then I respect and cherish it."

With that, the sculptor bid him farewell, and gathered his tools. He took a deep breath, and split the statue apart. Yet as he did so, he jumped back with a cry of astonishment. For deep in the midst of the marble was a piece of jade, as pure and unblemished as never seen before. A priceless gem, a timeless treasure. And the sculptor stood before the broken statue with trembling hands. For from the beginning, this humble marble had harbored a heart of purest jade...

PRESENT DAY

Deep in the mountains of the east, there lies an ancient temple. The path is worn thin with the steps of devoted monks, and the rocky crags have heard many a pious prayer. At the entrance, a beautiful Buddha statue sits, carved from pure white marble. In its hands, it holds a breathtaking lotus flower, carved from a piece of pure white jade...

Only the mountains have heard the secrets of the sculptor and his statue. Yet if you ever visit the mountains of the East, be sure to visit the ancient temple. The lotus flower still rests there today, respected by all who bow before it. And now, weary traveler, you too have heard his tale.