The Four Noble Truths

One afternoon, a small child ran barefoot across the yard, then suddenly stopped short, crouched down and grabbed one foot. A thorn had just gone in. The child burst into tears.

Grandma had been sweeping leaves. She dropped her broom at once and knelt beside the child. She took the small foot in her hand and gently turned it over to look.

"Don't be scared. Let Grandma see. Just sit still for a moment."

The child was still sobbing. "It hurts so much, Grandma."

"I know. It really does hurt. But this thorn is a lot like a very old lesson."

She sat down beside the child and pulled the little one onto her lap. "Long ago, there was someone people called the great king of healers. That means the very best doctor of all. That someone was the Buddha."

"The Buddha healed sick people too, Grandma?"

Grandma nodded. "Not sores on the skin, dear. The Buddha healed the suffering inside people's hearts. And the way he healed it is just like the way I am about to pull out this thorn."

She pointed at the child's foot. "Step one. We have to look closely and see that there really is a thorn. We have to admit that it hurts, and not pretend that it doesn't."

"The Buddha taught the same thing. The first step is to admit honestly that life has suffering in it. Sooner or later, everyone has times of sadness, times of pain, times of loss. Pretending that nothing is wrong is the first mistake. The Buddha called this the truth of suffering."

The crying eased a little, and the child watched Grandma's finger closely.

"Step two. I have to find where the thorn went in. Only when we know where its root is can we pull it out."

"The Buddha also searched for the root of suffering. And he saw this. Most of our suffering comes from wanting too much. We want to keep forever what cannot be kept. We want what we do not have yet, no matter what. The Buddha gave that wanting a name: craving. That is the spot where the thorn goes in. He called it the cause of suffering."

"So I'm suffering because I want too much, Grandma?"

Grandma smiled gently. "Partly, yes. But keep listening, because the next part is the happy part."

"Step three. This thorn can come out. I promise it can come out. Your foot will stop hurting."

She looked into the child's eyes. "This is the most important thing the Buddha taught. He never said that life is only suffering and nothing more. He said the opposite. Suffering can end. We can truly be free of it, the way a thorn stops stinging once it is out. The Buddha called this joyful truth the end of suffering."

The child blinked. "Really, Grandma? It really stops hurting?"

"Of course. But to make it stop, we have to do it the right way. That is step four."

She pinched her fingertips together, as if picking something out with great care. "There is a right way to pull a thorn, too. Stay calm, be gentle, and follow the direction the thorn went in. Rush it, and it breaks and hurts even more."

"The Buddha also showed a path to the end of suffering. That path has eight parts, and it is called the Noble Eightfold Path. Put simply, it means learning to see rightly, to think good thoughts, to speak kind words, to act honestly, and to keep the heart at peace. The Buddha called it the path."

Grandma softly stroked the child's hair. "There is suffering. We can know why it comes. We can trust that it can end. And we can walk the path that ends it. People call these four together the Four Noble Truths. In Vietnamese, they are called Tứ Diệu Đế."

"Where did the Buddha first say those four things, Grandma?"

Grandma looked off into the distance, and her voice slowed. "In a garden in India called the Deer Park. After he had found the answer, the Buddha walked a very long way. He went to find five old friends who had once practiced with him. They were Kondanna and his four companions."

"He sat down in the middle of the garden. The deer raised their heads to look, then bent down again to graze, and the afternoon sun shone through the leaves. He taught those five men exactly these four things. It was the first time he taught the way he had found. People later called that day the first turning of the wheel of the teaching."

Grandma added, her voice warm, "And those four teachings crossed the sea with monks to our country, a very long time ago. Even now, in pagodas all over Vietnam, people still study and chant those same four truths."

"Buddhists here do not take the Four Noble Truths as a reason to be sad. They take them as a way to see life clearly. We know there is suffering, but we also know for sure that it can be pulled out, just like this thorn."

As she spoke, she nimbly gripped the end of the thorn and drew it out in one clean pull. The little thorn came free.

She held it up for the child to see, and laughed. "All done. Does it still hurt?"

The child wiggled the foot and was surprised to feel no more sting. Wiping away the tears, the child nodded.

Grandma took the child's hand and helped the little one stand. "Try a few steps. Lighter now, isn't it?"

The child walked, on tiptoe at first, then more firmly. It really did feel much lighter.

Grandma watched and smiled. "There. See the thorn, find where it went in, pull it out, then walk on lighter. Those are your very own Four Noble Truths."