The end of a journey

by Rupa Wijesinghe

He was always there in the Temple, morning and evening, dressed in white. The precincts of the Bo-Tree were swept clean, all faded flowers removed, the joss-stick holders ready for a new instalment of joss-sticks, with the burnt ones taken away, the clay oil lamps cleaned and kept in an orderly manner, and the little pots for bathing the Bo-Tree, washed clean and kept upside down. It was easy for the devotees to carry out their religious activities without delay.

Saranapala was fair, of medium height, hair cut short and with a very pleasant smile adorning his countenance.

On the request of devotees he would chant Pirith and recite stanzas meaningfully, invoking the blessings of the Noble Triple Gem, and the Devas, with warmth in his heart. He expected nothing in return, but I've seen people giving him money which he would accept reluctantly after much persuasion. I got to know that he had been a carpenter, and that even now, he does a little carpentry when asked to.

My visits to this temple were not frequent, but each time I go, he is there.

"Do you live close by?" I asked him one day.

"Not very close. But this is the one place that brings me peace of mind and happiness. After the death of my wife Carolina, I feel so lost and helpless."

"Why? What about your children?"

I sensed he was emotionally disturbed. "I have only one child a son, brought up with love and care, but then, things became different, when he brought home a wife - a women of his choice".

"What happened?"

"Now their family is growing. They have a son and a little daughter, and they make me feel I'm useless and a burden to them. It's my house where Carolina and I brought up my son. If I only have a place to go to".

"Why do you want to go. It's your house?"

He told me it was a two-roomed decent house, with a tiled roof, and an enclosed garden, just by the road, in a good area.

"My son's wife Karuna has got her mother down, and wants the sister too to live with them, to look after the children. Karuna constantly fights with my son, saying there is no room for all of them now. I have even vacated my room and sleep in the back section, on a mat, to make matters easy for them, but yet, they make me feel I'm an intruder."

"In your own house!", I remarked, with heart-felt sympathy. No harsh words were spoken against his son. He only wanted to move out to make him lead a happy married life.

"And how old are you Saranapala?"

"Nearly seventy".

This is the age a person must live with dignity, be cared for by children, and lead a relaxed life, free of humiliation and ridicule. I was determined to help him, and I knew I could.

Though I had not known him for a long period, from what I gathered, he was an easy-going, harmless, religious individual, not prone to any vices, and could be safely recommended.

When I met him again, I asked him if he would like to spend the rest of his days, in a comfortable Elder's Home for males, with all facilities to suit him, for which no payments are required.

"Certainly, but who will put me there. I am helpless".

"I will, but you must get your son's permission."

"That will be the easiest. It will make him happy."

Arrangements were made by me, to get him admitted to a well-established, well-run 'Home' in the city, which cares for the elders in every way. I had visited this place on several occasions with alms for the inmates.

A member on the Board of Management was a close associate of ours and hearing of Saranapala's said plight, assured me of a place for him soon.

The relevant forms were obtained; Saranapala came home, and I filled the forms for him.

"Whom shall I put down as the 'next of kin", I asked.

A good son

"I don't think my son should sign, as people may think bad of him that he sent me away."

"That's exactly what he's doing. You yet want the world to think he's a good son", I said. He looked at me. His eyes were wet.

"Well, I'll sign."

I told him he will be called soon.

When I met him a few days later, I asked him if he had told his son, and his in-laws.

"Ah! They were overjoyed, specially Karuna. They had even dished out my dinner and kept it covered on the table, with a tumbler of water beside it".

"How is it on other days?" I asked.

"Well, when I get back from the Temple, I scrape the pots for whatever they've left for me. If I don't eat, Karuna complains to my son that food goes waste when cost of living is so high, and it's so difficult to feed another mouth".

He continued, while I listened awe-struck. "The day I threw the food to the dog, which even it did not eat, Karuna and her mother insulted me so much, that I said I will not eat their food again."

"So how do you manage?"

"I eat something from the boutique close-by. Would Carolina ever have thought I would be treated like this."

"Your son, what did he say?"

"He wanted me to write the house in his name, before I leave".

"So, did you agree?"

"Yes, he has made arrangements with a lawyer."

Saranapala arrived at the 'Home' on the given date with a letter from me. I rang up the 'Home'. He had come alone, and had arrived safely. His first visit to see me was about a month later. He was allowed a day off. He said he was very happy and comfortable in his new home.

"Did your son come to see you?"

"Yes, he wanted my signature for legal matter regarding the transfer of my house to him. He didn't stay long."

Saranapala visited me again. "You look healthy and fit".

"Naturally, with the peace of mind I now have, good meals, and everything I need."

"Your son, did he come again?"

"No, never after the first visit. He must be busy with the family". Never a harsh word was spoken against him. I lost touch with him for quite some time after that."

One morning, a van stopped at our gate, and as I went out, a smiling Saranapala alighted from it.

"Can you recognise me?" The gentleman seated next to the driver explained that four inmates who expressed a desire to visit those known to them, in this area, were given the opportunity. They would come back for him in one and a half hour's time. He had come once before, but missed us, as we were away. He looked almost the same, steady on his feet, serene and composed. He had a shopping bag in his hand. "This is for you, Nona".

Sharing the merit

I looked into it. There were two cakes of soap, and a towel.

"Why did you bring these? You can make use of them.

"We get plenty of these, time and again, at alms-givings, and what is the use of so much for me".

"But they were given to you for merit". He sensed I was feeling bad to accept it. He smiled, and in his usual composed manner, said. I'm sharing the merit with you. A gift received and gifted to another with a good heart, is a blessed gift. Can this be compared to what you have done for me".

He inquired about my family. He spoke of how happy he is in his present home. He could continue his religious activities. It was he who is called upon to confer merit on those who give alms, and to perform the daily religious activities in the large shrine-room in the 'Home'.

Through curiosity I ask him, "What news of your son?"

"Nothing. I've cultivated non-attachment, which is happiness".

But I wish his son will care for him.

"The priest from the Temple where I used to go, came here to deliver a sermon. He mentioned that my son had sold the house. I asked no questions. I have let go of the past so that I can enjoy the present.

"I do not want anyone to be informed when I die. I have made written request. What can they do? Death is inevitable".

Time was running fast. We were enjoying each other's company.

What shall I give you for the New year?" I asked.

Kindness, love and care

"There is nothing I need. We in this home get all the necessities - food, clothing, kindness, love and care".

"I'll give you some money for your personal expenses".

He laughed. "What is the use of money to me?"

"We are sometimes given money in an envelope by those who give Daney". Sethan, the inmate next to my bed, collects all the gifts given and hands them over to his son and his children when they come to see him. Sometimes, I give Sethan what is extra. I'm independent, I have no malice, nor attachments, so happiness follows me like a shadow that never leaves."

His conversation with us was like Dhamma sermon - refreshing and meaningful. He was so happy, he said to have met us. The van arrived on time paid his respects to my husband and me, and blessed us. He got into the vehicle without difficulty, and waved to us. We stood at the gate till the van went out of sight.

Five days later, I got a telephone call from the Elders' home. Saranapala had passed away very peacefully, in his sleep, in the early hours of the morning.

Contrary to his wish, abiding by a regulation of the Institution, I had to be informed, as I had signed as "next of kith and kin". The following morning, I gifted Saranapala's gift to me, to a needy old man. He was delighted. He uttered a verse of praise, conferring merit on me and departed ones. Saranapala's words - "a gift received, gifted to another, with a good heart, is a blessed gift," echoed in my ears.