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“Bodhicitta”
The old monk in the mountain temple gave the young monk a string of bodhi beads, each of which was as smooth as a chestnut, and told him:

“Twist one every day and think about what compassion is.”

The young monk counted carefully for the first three days:

One – don’t step on ants;

Two – share steamed buns with stray dogs;

Three – help up fallen pilgrims.

On the fourth day, he was lazy and didn’t count.

On the fifth day, he complained: “What’s the point of counting this every day?”

A heavy rainstorm came at night, and the young monk found that the temple door was leaking, and hurriedly used a wooden basin to collect water. The shadow of the bodhi beads was reflected in the water, and he suddenly remembered –

The ants that were stepped on to death the day before yesterday, the starving stray dogs yesterday, and the old woman who fell and injured this morning were still lying in the meditation room.

He rushed out in the rain and brought back the injured chicks, all wet.

The old monk in the corridor smiled: “You see, there is no need to count the bodhi seeds -”

“It grows into the heart by itself.”