The Clay Lamp
One of the greatest admirers of the Buddha was King Bimbisara of Magadhi. When he heard that the Buddha was approaching his capital, he hung the city with festive decorations and lined the main street with thousands of lamps in ornate holders, kept lit to honor the Buddha when he passed by.
In Bimbisara’s capital lived an old woman who loved the Buddha deeply. She longed to take her own clay lamp and join the crowds that would line the road when he passed. The lamp was broken, but she was too poor to buy a finer one of brass. She made a wick from the edge of her sari, and the corner shopkeeper, knowing she had no money, poured a little oil into her lamp.
A stiff breeze had come up by the time she reached the street where the Buddha would pass, and the old woman knew there was not enough oil to last long. She did not light her lamp until the radiant figure of the Buddha came into view at the city gates.
The wind rose, and King Bimbisara must have watched in agony as a sudden gust extinguished all his lamps. When the Buddha passed, only one light remained burning: a broken clay lamp which an old woman guarded with both hands.
The Buddha stopped in front of her. As she knelt to receive his blessing, he turned to his disciples. ‘Take note of this woman! As long as spiritual disciplines are practiced with this kind of love and dedication, the light of the world will never go out.'
- Retold by Eknath Easwaran in the introduction to his translation of ‘The Dhammapada.’
In Bimbisara’s capital lived an old woman who loved the Buddha deeply. She longed to take her own clay lamp and join the crowds that would line the road when he passed. The lamp was broken, but she was too poor to buy a finer one of brass. She made a wick from the edge of her sari, and the corner shopkeeper, knowing she had no money, poured a little oil into her lamp.
A stiff breeze had come up by the time she reached the street where the Buddha would pass, and the old woman knew there was not enough oil to last long. She did not light her lamp until the radiant figure of the Buddha came into view at the city gates.
The wind rose, and King Bimbisara must have watched in agony as a sudden gust extinguished all his lamps. When the Buddha passed, only one light remained burning: a broken clay lamp which an old woman guarded with both hands.
The Buddha stopped in front of her. As she knelt to receive his blessing, he turned to his disciples. ‘Take note of this woman! As long as spiritual disciplines are practiced with this kind of love and dedication, the light of the world will never go out.'
- Retold by Eknath Easwaran in the introduction to his translation of ‘The Dhammapada.’