One summer day, a traveler was walking down a country-side road. When he left his house, the sun was shining brightly, but in the middle of his journey, rain drops slowly fell. “Ah!” he shouted into the heavens. Caught unprepared by the capricious weather, he sought shelter under a thin mango tree with dense foliage. Thankful that he didn’t get a single drop of water on him, he sat under the tree and waited out the shower. After an hour of waiting, he was glad to see the sun shining again, and he continued his journey.
A few steps away from the tree, he stubbed his toe on a tree root that stuck out of the ground. Wincing from the pain, he angrily went back to the tree and kicked its trunk that created a thudding sound that seemed to echo into the air. Like ripples on a still pond, vibrations shook the tree and its wet leaves, drenching the traveler with rainwater that was collected by the canopy, which enraged the man even more. It seemed like the traveler was a spring of insults when he turned his back and walked away, but he didn’t get far when he heard the sound of thunder.
When he turned around, the tree shone brightly. Right in front of him was the goddess of mercy, Guanyin, clothed in white, flowing robes with leaf-like trimming. She frowned at the traveler and began to speak, “You should have been thankful, traveler. You forgot that the tree has shown mercy on you. It sheltered you from the rain, but you repaid it with violence, and so, you brought misery upon yourself. Let this be a lesson to you that you must always show gratitude wherever you can.” Then, all went black.
When he awoke, he found himself in his home. After talking to his wife, he learned that he was bed-ridden for a month, burning with fever. He then recalled his encounter with Guanyin, and immediately, he said to his wife, “Thank you for caring for me.” From that point on, he remembered to show his gratitude to every soul that helped him.
Last year, I started a blog (and deserted it almost as quickly) that I intended to use to document events that led me to feel “loud heartbeats.” From my point of view, loud heartbeats are moments when I feel truly happy, extremely aggravated, or some other intense emotion. Since I had a knack of killing blogs, I also killed that blog, but before I did, I was able to write a few stories that were inspired by sudden flashes of inspiration. Also, I was inspired by Art of Zendictive to write these stories, and here’s one of them.