The Monk and the Vagrant

A wealthy man drove his car down the road. As he pulled up to an intersection, he noticed a man sitting with a sign indicating he was hungry and homeless.

“A ha!” The man exclaimed. “I will save this man! I have money, and all this man needs is a little money to turn his luck around!”

And so it was that the wealthy man gave the vagrant large sums of money. Being unlearned in the ways of using money wisely, after some time, the vagrant found himself without fortune and back at the same intersection.

A famous man drove his car down the road. As he approached the intersection, he too saw the vagrant.

“A ha!” The man exclaimed. “I will save this man! I have connections and fame, and all this man needs is promotion to turn his luck around!”

And so it was that the famous man introduced the vagrant to all of his friends. Being unlearned in the ways of social graces, after some time, the vagrant found himself bereft of the connections bestowed upon him. And so was he back at the same intersection.

A pious man drove his car down the road. As he approached the intersection, he too saw the vagrant.

“A ha!” The man exclaimed. “I will save this man! I have virtue and piety, and no deed is beyond my conviction. All this man needs is conviction to turn his luck around!”

And so it was that the pious man took the vagrant under his wing and introduced him to his virtues, strictures, ceremonies, and gods. Being unskilled in the ways of self discipline, however, it was not long again before the vagrant found himself back at the same intersection.

One evening, as the clouds in the sky became the envy of all of the colorful beings of creation, a mendicant approached the intersection on foot. He came upon the vagrant who had not noticed his approach. He observed the vagrant just lost in space staring at the sunset. After a moment, the vagrant realized that the monk was next to him.

The monk sat next to the vagrant unbidden, and offered the contents of his bowl: two partially eaten chicken wings. The two men savored the remnants together, and the vagrant told the monk his story.

“Thrice have I been saved, and thrice have I returned. It seems I cannot be saved.” The vagrant lamented.

“If thrice you have been saved, and thrice you have returned, then perhaps you are never to be saved.” The monk agreed.

“What ever shall I do?” The vagrant entreated, his eyes pleading.

“I suppose what you have always done. Sit at this corner and enjoy the splendor of the sunset.”

The vagrant let out a hearty laugh. “I suppose I shall,” he agreed.

The monk collected picked up his bowl, bowed to the vagrant and smiled. Then he was on his way.