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Chapter 62 Seeing the Moon

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    A thousand rivers have water and a thousand rivers and moons.

    A long time ago, I wrote this sentence when I was practicing calligraphy.  It's not easy to write, the strokes are too few, and it can't be supported without strength of character.  I stopped practicing calligraphy soon, but this sentence has always been in a corner of my heart, and it will appear occasionally.

    Although I live by the Yangtze River, I don¡¯t see the moon on the river many times, and I don¡¯t have a deep impression on it.

    It was only later that I gradually realized that this was originally a gatha, volume 18 of "Jiataipu Denglu".

    The heart is clear and the water shows the moon, and the sky is cloudless.

    We are all sentient beings in a thousand rivers, and there are no big or small rivers, high or low.  The moon is like a Buddha, and the moon can be seen in the river.  So seeing the moon is commonplace, and it has always been between the thoughts.

    People's memory is very strange. Some things from yesterday can't be remembered.  What happened so long ago can never be forgotten.

    The earliest memory, the picture is very clear, as if it was yesterday, there is such a one.

    When I was about five or six years old, I went to Jiming Temple with my parents.  It should be a big day. There are people all the way up the mountain gate.  Incense is lingering, but not noisy.

    Not long after reaching the top of the mountain, I realized that I was lost.  At that time, I was very short, with jungle-like legs in front of me. I couldn't tell the difference between male and female, old and young, and they kept moving in front of my eyes.  Looking up, the sky above the head was squeezed into a small piece by the crowd.

    At that time, I was probably a little scared, but I didn't know what to do. I was surrounded by the crowd and moved in an unknown direction until that person appeared in front of me.

    It does sound dramatic, but that's how she showed up.

    Up to now, I can still clearly remember the pattern of stitches on her cyan robe, and the pair of clean black cloth shoes.  I looked up and saw that she was a nun in the monastery, clasped her hands together, and looked down at me.

    I didn't know what to say, but she spoke first, "Don't be afraid."

    I don't know how she can tell from the crowd that this is a lost child.

    I kept silent, probably because adults said not to talk to strangers casually.

    She also said, "If you encounter something that doesn't go your way in the future, come here. There is Guanyin Bodhisattva here."

    I may or may not have said something.  After this sentence, I can't remember clearly.  But not long after she left, I saw my parents in the crowd looking for me.

    In the sixth year of middle school, the school is next to Jiming Temple, and I often go there.  At noon, or after school.  I didn't stay for a long time, and most of them just walked around and sat around.

    Probably, Feng Nuan has someone to accompany him, and there is nothing to think about in the long days.  Although the companions are ancient temples, pine rocks, lakes and mountains.

    Or, it's the month.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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