One evening, while a monk was reciting his prayers in his room, a thief broke into his house. Point a sword at the monk, the thief threatened to take his life unless he would give him money.
The monk, not frightened by the thief, replied calmly- “You are disturbing me! The money is in that drawer, over there.” He pointed at a counter in the far corner of the room. “Help yourself,” he said, returning to his prayer.
The thief rushed to the drawer and began collecting the money. He heard the monk call out,-“Don’t take all of it! Leave some for me to pay my tax tomorrow.”
The bugler froze in his place. It wasn’t a request but a bold demand. Nevertheless, he did as he was asked to and headed towards the door.
“Hey!” The monk shouted- “You are leaving without even thanking me for the money? How very impolite of you!”
The thief was shocked by the level of courage displayed by the monk. Unconsciously he whispered ‘thank you’ and left the room awkwardly. Later that night, he told is friend about his bizarre encounter with the monk. “I was more afraid of the monk than he was of me!” he exclaimed.
A few days later the burglar was caught. He was accused of robbery not only at the monk’s place, but also many other places. He was taken to the court for a trial.
When the monk was called as a witness, he said- “No, this man did not steal anything from me. I gave him the money. He even thanked me for it.”
This however did not keep the thief from being locked up behind the bars. But he did get a lesser number of years than he deserved for his crime. During his time in the prison, he thought a lot about the old monk.
Years later, the thief was released from the prison. He straight away walked to the monk’s house and rang the doorbell.
The monk, upon opening the door, saw the man, who had robbed him, standing with a bag slung over his shoulder, a certain humbleness in his eye.
“Ah, I knew you would show up,” the monk laughed. He wholeheartedly welcomed the criminal into his house and prepared him for his future in the righteous path.
