I’d like to share a story with you. It comes from the Mi’kmaq (or Micmac) tribe of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island, Canada.
A long time ago, in a village by a lake, there lived a great hunter who was invisible. He was called the Hidden One. It was known that any young woman who could see him would become his bride.
Many were the hopeful young women who visited his wigwam at the far end of the village. Each was tested by the hunter’s sister, who was called the Patient One. But years passed, and none succeeded.
In the same village lived two sisters who had lost their mother. The younger sister had a good heart, but the older one was jealous and cruel. While their father was out hunting, the older sister would torment the younger one, holding her down and burning her arms and face with sticks from the fire.
“Don’t you dare tell our father,” she would say, “or next time will be worse!”
When the father came home, he would ask in dismay, “Why is she burnt again?”
The older sister would answer, “The stupid, clumsy thing! She was playing with the fire, just like you told her not to!”
The father would turn to the younger. “Is this true?”
But she only bit her lip and said nothing.
After a while she had so many scars, she was called Little Scarface. She lost her long braids too, when her sister singed them off. And she had to go barefoot and wear rags, for her sister would not allow her any skins to make moccasins or new clothes.
Of course, the sister made up all different reasons to tell their father. And he would shake his head in sorrow and disappointment.
One day, the older sister put on her finest clothes and many shiny strings of shell beads.
“Do you know what I’m doing?” she asked Little Scarface. “I’m going to marry the Hidden One. Of course, that’s something you could never dream of.”
Little Scarface bowed her head.
When the older sister reached the wigwam at the edge of the village, she was greeted by the sister of the hunter.
“You are welcome,” said the Patient One. “My brother will return soon from the hunt. Come help me prepare the evening meal.”
The two of them worked awhile, until the sun was nearly down. Then the Patient One led the young woman to the shore of the lake.
“My brother comes,” the Patient One said, pointing along the shore. “Do you see him?”
The young woman saw no one, but she had decided to pretend. “Of course. There he is now!”
The eyes of the Patient One narrowed. “And what is his shoulder strap?”
“A strip of rawhide,” said the young woman, thinking it a safe guess.
The Patient One frowned. “Let us return to the wigwam.”
They had just finished making the meal when a deep voice said, “Greetings, my sister.”
The young woman jumped in surprise. She stared at the entrance but saw no one.
“Greetings, my brother,” replied the Patient One.
As the young woman watched with wide eyes, a moccasin appeared in mid-air and dropped to the floor, followed by another. A moment later, bits of food were rising from a birch-bark tray near the fire and vanishing into an invisible mouth.
The young woman turned to the Patient One. “When will our wedding take place?”
The Patient One turned to her angrily. “What wedding? Do you think my brother would marry a liar and a fool?”
The young woman ran crying from the wigwam.
All the next morning she stayed in bed, weeping and sobbing. Then Little Scarface came to her.
“Sister, let me have skins to make moccasins and new clothes. It is my turn to visit the Hidden One.”
“How dare you!” screamed the sister. She jumped up and slapped Little Scarface, knocking her to the floor. “Are you so stupid to think you can do what I couldn’t? Even if you saw him, do you think he’d marry a pathetic thing like you?”
She sank back to the bed in tears.
Little Scarface sat huddled for a long time, listening to her sister howl and sob. Then she rose and said again, “It is my turn to visit the Hidden One.”
Her sister stopped crying and stared in amazement.
Little Scarface went to her father’s chest and took out an old pair of moccasins. She put them on her own small feet.
Then she went out into the woods. She chose a birch tree and carefully stripped off the bark in a single sheet. From this she made a suit of clothes, which she put on in place of her rags.
Then she started back through the village.
“Look at Little Scarface!” yelled a boy. “She’s dressed like a tree!”
“Hey, Little Scarface,” a young man called, “are those moccasins big enough for you?”
“I don’t believe it!” an old woman said. “She’s on her way to the Hidden One!”
“Little Scarface,” called a young woman, “did you burn yourself and cut off your hair to look pretty for him?”
Ignoring their taunts and laughter, Little Scarface walked on till she reached the wigwam at the village edge.
The Patient One regarded the young woman with surprise, but she told her, “You are welcome.”
Little Scarface helped prepare the evening meal. When the sun was nearly down, the Patient One led her to the lake.
“My brother comes,” the Patient One told her. “Do you see him?”
Little Scarface gazed along the shore. “I’m not sure . . . .”
Then her eyes lit in wonder. “Yes, I see him! But how can there be such a one?”
The Patient One looked at her curiously. “What is his shoulder strap?”
“His shoulder strap is . . . is the Rainbow!”
The Patient One’s eyes grew wide. “And his bowstring?”
“His bowstring is . . . the Milky Way!”
The Patient One smiled. “Let us return.”
When they reached the wigwam, the Patient One took the strange clothes off Little Scarface and washed her with water from a special jar. The young woman’s scars disappeared, leaving her skin shining and smooth. A magic comb made the young woman’s hair grow quickly to her waist, ready for braiding.
Then the Patient One opened a chest and took out a beautiful wedding outfit. Little Scarface had just put it on when a deep voice said, “Greetings, my sister.”
Little Scarface turned to the entrance and stared at the magnificent young hunter. As their eyes met, she saw the surprise in his.
“Greetings, my brother,” said the Patient One. “You are discovered!”
The Hidden One walked over to Little Scarface and took her hands in his. “For years I have waited to find a woman of pure heart and brave spirit. Only such a one could see me. And now you shall be my bride.”
So they were married. And from then on, Little Scarface had a new name—the Lovely One. For she too had been hidden, and now was hidden no more.
At first, this may seem to be a love story and to a certain extent it is. But, it is also a story about patience. Little Scarface embodies patience. Despite all the cruelty she suffered at the hands of her sister and all the neglect she experienced from her father, she patiently endured it all and remained rooted in goodness. It is this kind of patience that we are called upon to practice. It is one of the Six Perfections, Six Paramitas, the lie at the heart of the Way of The Bodhisattva. Today, let’s think about what the Perfection of Patience means for us.
There are two kinds of patience we have to come to experience: the patience with beings and patience with dharmas. The first is the one that usually comes to mind---patience with other people. It is the kind of patience that Little Scarface in our story practiced. And, it is this patience we will talk about today. What we should keep in mind with both practices of patience, is that they both arise from our experience of the impermanence, suffering, and emptiness of all things. It is also has roots in compassion and karma. We will look at how patience springs from those roots.
What is it that motivated Little Scarface to endure? Why did she not strike back? Why didn’t she stand up for herself? If we go back to Nagarjuna’s Treatise on The Bodhisattva Vow we can find a hint or two as to why. Ask yourself: do any of these things he teaches explain Little Scarface’s actions? More importantly, do his words and Little Scarface’s actions give us guidance for our own practice of the Perfection of Patience with Beings.
Nagarjuna says:
If the bodhisattva encounters harsh speech or cursing, or if he is set upon with knives and clubs, he reflects and realizes that these events result from causes and conditions associated with prior karmic offenses and deficiency of merit, and that all dharmas, whether inward or outward, are ultimately empty, devoid of self, and devoid of anything belonging to a self.
If the bodhisattva sees a being coming to afflict her with torment and aggravation, she should think to herself, “this is my close friend and he is also my guru. I must enhance my treatment of him with familial affection and respectful thoughts. Why? Because if he does not afflict me with manifold forms of torment, then I will be unable to perfect the practice of patience.
When tormented and injured, I will not become hateful. I shall not be fearful of the intense difficulties involved in the manifold forms of suffering. And for the sake of beings, I should let flourish the mind of great compassion.
If we use these teachings as ways to understand Little Scarface, we learn that she may have exercised the restraint she did because she saw her torment as karmic residue from her past actions, saw her sister as a vehicle to perfect her patience, and, above all, treated her sister with compassion realizing that underneath her sister’s actions there was pain and suffering. She was able to do this because she knew that none of it would last forever. Each instance of abuse would eventually end. She lived impermanence just as she lived suffering. She also was able to see that the abuse was not about her, but about her sister. She knew, probably very deep down, that everything that was happening to her wasn’t really happening to her at all. It was happening to her body, but not to her true nature, Her true nature, her Buddha nature, was unaffected. She was able to recognize that for all her sister’s actions, Little Scarface’s essence remained pure and bright. It was because of this that she was able to endure.
You might be thinking that this is a bunch of bull. That what she was subjected to went beyond what she should have endured. After all, isn’t there a limit to what a person should have to put up with? I suppose the answer should be yes, but there is a much larger perspective here, a deeper lesson to be learned.
If we give in and decide to return like action for like action, where do we turn? Don’t we end up falling into anger, hatred, and resentment? What benefit is that to us? Haven’t we come to understand that these are poisons for our practice? Haven’t we learned that these three things cause the greatest karmic retribution? The Buddha teaches us that these three poisons are the great destroyers of compassion. One cannot be compassionate and harbor even a moment of anger, hatred, or resentment.
So we must, no matter what, not just patiently endure those hateful things that are visited upon us, but we must answer them with compassion. Nagarjuna teaches that we must see all beings as Buddhas, for that is what they are, and when we injure them with anger, hatred, and resentment, we injure all the Buddhas as well.
This is not an easy practice, this practice of patience with beings. In the past we have talked about not forming judgments about people no matter what they do or say. Now, we are being asked to take a further step that takes us beyond judgment to a place of active compassion. The compassion is tested by these harmful actions and we must patiently endure them and see the other as our mother, father, children, Buddha. Would we cause any of them harm?
As we look back now on Little Scarface’s tale, we see that she followed The Way of the Bodhisattva. At times it was extremely harsh and difficult, yet she saw her sister as deserving of her love and compassion. Little Scarface’s actions were meritorious and, in the end, they resulted in a positive karmic act of love for her. She chose a better path and what she realized was what Nagarjuna teaches are the benefits of The Way of the Bodhisattva:
The mind will be peaceful and secure
The mind will have no regrets
All the Buddhas offer praise
One has nor more distress.
No regrets, no distress, peace and security---not a bad result for perfecting the practice of patience with beings.
