Automatically translated.View original post

The Buddha spoke of love as happening for two reasons.

Tales of Dharma: The Old Merit of Gog the Rich Man and the Wise Wife

Once upon a time, there was a rich man, and a daughter about fifteen to sixteen years old, and she was beautiful, gentle, and loved by all.

And his father was very jealous of his daughter, and gave her a handmaid to keep close watch, and made her dwell in a special room on the top of the seven floors of the castle, that no man might enter and leave easily.

One day the maid went out to the market to buy things.

On the way, the rich man's wife found the servant, and called and said,

"You don't have to rush to the market to serve our son, wash your feet, oil your mattress, and run your mistress's errands."

The servant followed orders. It was later than usual to go to the market and return.

And when he came back, the rich daughter said,

"Why are you back so late?"

The servant hurried to learn that

"Don't be angry. Today the son of a rich man named Gozka came to my house. I must serve him first and then go to the market."

Only to hear the name "Koska." The girl's heart was shaken. A sense of familiarity and deep love immediately emerged, as if something were hidden in the depths of the mind.

The commentary explains that it is not a coincidence, but a result of the Buddha.

In the past, when Ghoska was just a poor man, the two were married. One day, they both offered a cup of rice to the Buddha. That merit resulted in their birth into a wealthy family. And when they heard each other again, the old bond was restored.

For this reason, the Buddha said,

"Love can happen for two reasons: it has been together in the past and has been together in the present, like a lotus that relies on water and mud to flourish."

And when the girl came to mind, she asked her servant,

"Where is he this time?"

The servant replied,

"I'm sleeping."

"Then what's in his hand?"

"There's a book tied to your cloth."

The girl became suspicious, and snuck out of the castle. And Gozka was asleep, and his parents were busy with other matters, and no one noticed.

So she slowly untied the book tied to the cloth man and hurried back into the room, closed the door, opened the window, and read the book, because she was a literate man.

When she finished reading, she was shocked.

In that book, it's a secret order to kill Koska.

The girl exclaimed to herself,

"Wretched, he had no idea he was carrying a book to kill himself. If we hadn't found it, he wouldn't have survived."

She quickly tore down the book and rewrote it in imitation of the original handwriting.

But the content has completely changed.

She wrote that

"My son Gozka, when he comes, give him a tribute from one hundred houses of tribute, and marry the daughter of the rich man of the countryside, and build a two-story house, and prepare men and walls, and send back word that all has been done."

And when she had finished writing, she folded the book, and brought it back, and bound it to the cloths of Gozka, as before, without anyone knowing.

Dawn, Koska continues his journey to the countryside as usual.

On arrival, he found the clerk in charge of the business, and handed him the book.

The clerk read, very glad. Hurry and announce to the villagers:

My lord trusted me very much. He sent his sons to marry the rich daughter, and to make houses honorable.

Everyone built a two-story house, brought a tribute from one hundred villages, and arranged a wedding ceremony.

When it's all done, Mr. Clerk sends word back to the millionaire.

The rich man, when he received the news, was shocked.

He lamented that

"What we ordered was unsuccessful, but what we never ordered was accomplished."

Regret and disappointment made him fall ill and even pregnant.

Meanwhile, Gozka's wife, the rich daughter, ordered the doorman:

"If anyone comes from the rich man's house, bring me first. Don't tell your husband."

Soon the rich man missed his son, and sent men after him.

And the girl inquired of her father-in-law's condition. And when she knew that it was not yet heavy, she put him to rest, and told him not.

The millionaire then sent another person.

She did the same.

Until a third correspondent arrived and said,

"A rich man is very sick, abstaining from food, and doctors see that it will last soon."

Hearing that, she knew it was time.

So she told her husband that

"I heard that your father is seriously ill. We should visit."

Ghoska then prepared a cart carrying tribute from the one hundred village tribute houses to give to his father.

But on the way, the wife said,

"Your father is very sick. If we take all the gifts, we will waste time. Send them back to the treasury and leave quickly."

Ghoska agreed.

And when they came to the rich man's house, his wife said,

"Go and stand at your father's feet, and I will stand above my head."

She then instructed her men to take strict care of the safety of both the front of the house and the back of the house.

As the two entered the room, Koska stood at his father's toes, and his wife stood overhead, preparing to take close care of the terminally ill rich man, etc.

The story of the queen, chapter 2, appamat paragraph

# Love # Dharma # Good # Dharma chapter

6/19 Edited to

... Read moreāļˆāļēāļāļ›āļĢāļ°āļŠāļšāļāļēāļĢāļ“āđŒāļŠāđˆāļ§āļ™āļ•āļąāļ§ āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāļˆāļĢāļīāļ‡āđ† āļ™āļąāđ‰āļ™āļĄāļąāļāļĄāļĩāļĢāļēāļāļāļēāļ™āļˆāļēāļāļāļēāļĢāļŠāļĢāđ‰āļēāļ‡āļŠāļąāļĄāļžāļąāļ™āļ˜āđŒāđƒāļ™āļ­āļ”āļĩāļ•āļ‹āļķāđˆāļ‡āļ­āļēāļˆāļˆāļ°āđ„āļĄāđˆāļĢāļđāđ‰āļ•āļąāļ§ āđ€āļŠāđˆāļ™āđ€āļ”āļĩāļĒāļ§āļāļąāļšāļ™āļīāļ—āļēāļ™āđ‚āļ†āļŠāļāļ°āđāļĨāļ°āļŠāļēāļĄāļēāļ§āļ”āļĩ āļ—āļĩāđˆāļŠāļ­āļ™āđ€āļĢāļ·āđˆāļ­āļ‡āļšāļļāļžāđ€āļžāļŠāļąāļ™āļ™āļīāļ§āļēāļŠ āļ—āļĩāđˆāļšāļ­āļāļ§āđˆāļēāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāđ€āļāļīāļ”āļ‚āļķāđ‰āļ™āļˆāļēāļāļāļēāļĢāļ—āļĩāđˆāđ€āļ„āļĒāļ­āļĒāļđāđˆāļ”āđ‰āļ§āļĒāļāļąāļ™āđƒāļ™āļ­āļ”āļĩāļ•āļŠāļēāļ•āļīāđāļĨāļ°āļāļēāļĢāđ€āļāļ·āđ‰āļ­āļāļđāļĨāļāļąāļ™āđƒāļ™āļ›āļąāļˆāļˆāļļāļšāļąāļ™ āđ€āļŦāļĄāļ·āļ­āļ™āļ”āļ­āļāļšāļąāļ§āļ—āļĩāđˆāļ•āđ‰āļ­āļ‡āđƒāļŠāđ‰āļ™āđ‰āļģāđāļĨāļ°āđ‚āļ„āļĨāļ™āļˆāļķāļ‡āđ€āļ•āļīāļšāđ‚āļ•āđ„āļ”āđ‰ āđ€āļĢāļ·āđˆāļ­āļ‡āļ™āļĩāđ‰āļŠāļ°āļ—āđ‰āļ­āļ™āđƒāļŦāđ‰āđ€āļŦāđ‡āļ™āļ§āđˆāļēāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāđ„āļĄāđˆāđƒāļŠāđˆāđāļ„āđˆāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļđāđ‰āļŠāļķāļāļŠāļąāđˆāļ§āļ„āļĢāļēāļ§ āđāļ•āđˆāđ€āļ›āđ‡āļ™āļœāļĨāļˆāļēāļāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļœāļđāļāļžāļąāļ™āđāļĨāļ°āļāļēāļĢāļāļĢāļ°āļ—āļģāļĢāđˆāļ§āļĄāļāļąāļ™āļ—āļĩāđˆāļĨāļķāļāļ‹āļķāđ‰āļ‡āđāļĨāļ°āļĒāļīāđˆāļ‡āđƒāļŦāļāđˆāļāļ§āđˆāļēāļ—āļĩāđˆāļ•āļēāđ€āļŦāđ‡āļ™ āđƒāļ™āļŠāļĩāļ§āļīāļ•āļˆāļĢāļīāļ‡ āđ€āļĢāļēāļ­āļēāļˆāđ€āļ„āļĒāđ€āļˆāļ­āļ„āļ™āļ—āļĩāđˆāđ€āļĢāļēāļĢāļđāđ‰āļŠāļķāļāļ„āļļāđ‰āļ™āđ€āļ„āļĒāđāļĨāļ°āļĢāļąāļāđƒāļ„āļĢāđˆāļ•āļąāđ‰āļ‡āđāļ•āđˆāđāļĢāļāļžāļš āļšāļēāļ‡āļ„āļĢāļąāđ‰āļ‡āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļđāđ‰āļŠāļķāļāļ™āļąāđ‰āļ™āļ­āļēāļˆāļĄāļĩāļ—āļĩāđˆāļĄāļēāļˆāļēāļāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļŠāļąāļĄāļžāļąāļ™āļ˜āđŒāđ€āļāđˆāļēāļ—āļĩāđˆāđ„āļĄāđˆāļ­āļēāļˆāļˆāļģāđ„āļ”āđ‰āļŠāļąāļ”āđ€āļˆāļ™ āđ€āļŦāļĄāļ·āļ­āļ™āđƒāļ™āļ™āļīāļ—āļēāļ™āļ—āļĩāđˆāļŦāļāļīāļ‡āļŠāļēāļ§āļĢāļđāđ‰āļŠāļķāļāļœāļđāļāļžāļąāļ™āļāļąāļšāđ‚āļ†āļŠāļāļ°āļ—āļąāļ™āļ—āļĩāļ—āļĩāđˆāđ„āļ”āđ‰āļĒāļīāļ™āļŠāļ·āđˆāļ­ āļ—āļąāđ‰āļ‡āļ—āļĩāđˆāđ€āļžāļīāđˆāļ‡āļžāļšāļāļąāļ™ āļ‹āļķāđˆāļ‡āđāļŠāļ”āļ‡āļ–āļķāļ‡āļāļēāļĢāđ€āļŠāļ·āđˆāļ­āļĄāļ•āđˆāļ­āđ€āļŠāļīāļ‡āļˆāļīāļ•āļ§āļīāļāļāļēāļ“āļ—āļĩāđˆāļ‚āđ‰āļēāļĄāļœāđˆāļēāļ™āļāļēāļĨāđ€āļ§āļĨāļē āļ™āļ­āļāļˆāļēāļāļ™āļĩāđ‰ āđ€āļĢāļ·āđˆāļ­āļ‡āļĢāļēāļ§āļĒāļąāļ‡āđ€āļ™āđ‰āļ™āļšāļ—āļšāļēāļ—āļ‚āļ­āļ‡āļāļēāļĢāđ€āļāļ·āđ‰āļ­āļāļđāļĨāļāļąāļ™āđƒāļ™āļ›āļąāļˆāļˆāļļāļšāļąāļ™ āļ—āļĩāđˆāļ—āļģāđƒāļŦāđ‰āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāđ€āļ•āļīāļšāđ‚āļ•āđāļĨāļ°āļĒāļąāđˆāļ‡āļĒāļ·āļ™ āļāļēāļĢāļ—āļĩāđˆāļŦāļāļīāļ‡āļŠāļēāļ§āļŠāđˆāļ§āļĒāļŠāļĩāļ§āļīāļ•āđ‚āļ†āļŠāļāļ°āļ”āđ‰āļ§āļĒāļāļēāļĢāđāļāđ‰āđ„āļ‚āļŦāļ™āļąāļ‡āļŠāļ·āļ­āļ„āļģāļŠāļąāđˆāļ‡āļĨāļąāļšāļ™āļąāđ‰āļ™ āđāļŠāļ”āļ‡āļ–āļķāļ‡āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāļ—āļĩāđˆāđāļŠāļ”āļ‡āļ­āļ­āļāļœāđˆāļēāļ™āļāļēāļĢāļāļĢāļ°āļ—āļģāđ€āļžāļ·āđˆāļ­āļ›āļāļ›āđ‰āļ­āļ‡āđāļĨāļ°āļ”āļđāđāļĨāļ„āļ™āļ—āļĩāđˆāļĢāļąāļ āđ„āļĄāđˆāđƒāļŠāđˆāđāļ„āđˆāļ„āļģāļžāļđāļ”āļŦāļĢāļ·āļ­āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļđāđ‰āļŠāļķāļāļĨāļ­āļĒāđ† āļ”āļąāļ‡āļ™āļąāđ‰āļ™āļŠāļģāļŦāļĢāļąāļšāļœāļđāđ‰āļ—āļĩāđˆāļŠāļ™āđƒāļˆāđ€āļĢāļ·āđˆāļ­āļ‡āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāđƒāļ™āļĄāļļāļĄāļĄāļ­āļ‡āļžāļĢāļ°āļžāļļāļ—āļ˜āļĻāļēāļŠāļ™āļē āļ™āļīāļ—āļēāļ™āļ™āļĩāđ‰āđ€āļ›āđ‡āļ™āļ•āļąāļ§āļ­āļĒāđˆāļēāļ‡āļ—āļĩāđˆāļ”āļĩāđƒāļ™āļāļēāļĢāļžāļīāļˆāļēāļĢāļ“āļēāļ§āđˆāļēāļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāļ•āđ‰āļ­āļ‡āļĄāļĩāļ­āļ‡āļ„āđŒāļ›āļĢāļ°āļāļ­āļšāļ—āļąāđ‰āļ‡āļ­āļ”āļĩāļ•āđāļĨāļ°āļ›āļąāļˆāļˆāļļāļšāļąāļ™āļ„āļ§āļšāļ„āļđāđˆāļāļąāļ™āđ„āļ› āđ€āļ›āđ‡āļ™āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļŠāļąāļĄāļžāļąāļ™āļ˜āđŒāļ—āļĩāđˆāļĄāļĩāļĢāļēāļāļāļēāļ™āđāļŦāđˆāļ‡āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļŠāļģāļ™āļķāļāļšāļļāļāļ„āļļāļ“āđāļĨāļ°āļāļēāļĢāļ”āļđāđāļĨāđ€āļ­āļēāđƒāļˆāđƒāļŠāđˆāļ‹āļķāđˆāļ‡āļāļąāļ™āđāļĨāļ°āļāļąāļ™āļˆāļĢāļīāļ‡āđ† āđāļĨāļ°āļ™āļĩāđˆāļ„āļ·āļ­āļ„āļļāļ“āļ„āđˆāļēāļ—āļĩāđˆāđāļ—āđ‰āļˆāļĢāļīāļ‡āļ‚āļ­āļ‡āļ„āļ§āļēāļĄāļĢāļąāļāļ—āļĩāđˆāļžāļĢāļ°āļžāļļāļ—āļ˜āđ€āļˆāđ‰āļēāļ—āļĢāļ‡āļŠāļ­āļ™