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上星期五，當我與四到六年級的女學生打坐時，忽然有一個女生指著窗戶說：「看！有一隻蒼蠅被蜘蛛網給纏住了！」心想著她們總是分心而不能專心打坐，我就說：「不要管它了，它大概已經死了。大家閉上眼睛，開始打坐吧！」於是我們就邊念觀音菩薩，邊敲木魚，開始打坐。過了一分鐘，那個女生又說：「那是甚麼嗡嗡聲？」我聽了一會，確定那個「嗡嗡」聲是從窗子來的；抬頭一看，是蜘蛛網上的蒼蠅所發出的聲音。我站起來，走近一看；那隻被纏縛住的蒼蠅，正在掙扎著想要從蜘蛛網中逃脫出來。當時我什麼也沒想，就拿了一張面紙把那隻蒼蠅從大片蜘蛛網中拿出來。那時班上所有的女生都擠到我身旁來，大家看到那隻可憐的小蒼蠅好像繭似的，全身纏滿了白絲。我用手指試著拉開一些蜘蛛網，可是因為纏得很緊，每拉一次，就好像會傷到牠。我們都念著〈大悲咒〉，這次同學們念得很誠心，我相信是從來未有的一次。過一會兒，我告訴這些女生：「要救這隻蒼蠅或許太遲了；牠大概活不了了，因為被纏得太緊，而且愈想除去蜘蛛絲，愈容易再傷到牠。我們唯一能做的就是念佛迴向牠能往生善處。」於是就把那隻蒼蠅放在教室的中間，我們圍坐成圓圈念阿彌陀佛。有一個女生問說：「那隻蜘蛛怎麼辦？我們拿走牠的食物不太好吧？」另一個女生對著蜘蛛說：「你可以吃素呀！」然後她就摘幾片綠葉子，留在蜘蛛網上。下課時，我們不單迴向功德給蒼蠅，同時也給蜘蛛，希望牠們能往生極樂世界，至少不要再做蒼蠅或蜘蛛了。之後，我們就把那隻蒼蠅繭留在小佛桌的觀音菩薩像前。
第二天，上打坐課時，很意外，的一個女生驚喜的說：「這隻蒼蠅還活著！我可以再試試幫牠鬆解嗎？」我很驚訝這隻可憐的小蒼蠅還活著，並且在二十四小時之後還在掙扎。我說：「好吧！你試試看！」 她就拿了一張面紙，很輕柔地和耐心地撥開纏結的蜘蛛網，有些女生也湊在旁邊想幫忙。我帶著其餘的女生同時念〈大悲咒〉。不多久，一個女生說：「鬆了一隻腳了！一隻蒼蠅有幾隻腳呢？」 我一邊念咒，一邊用手指比著六。過一會兒：「一隻翅膀鬆了，另一隻翅膀也鬆了！」 我們幾乎念了整節課；終於，那女生喜出望外地說：「我們成功了！牠自由了！」當大家看著那女生手上奄奄一息但還顫動的蒼蠅，真難盡信牠還很堅強地活著。所有的女生都為牠能死裡逃生而雀躍，我囑咐她們把牠送到樓下外面放生。另外；我還問她們是否也把蜘蛛請出去，順便清除蜘蛛網，但是她們說：「如果我們把牠請出去的話，牠得重頭再織網。牠如果留在這裡，還可以聽我們念觀音菩薩聖號呢！」於是，我憐憫地接受。
但是，第二天又有一隻蒼蠅被粘在這蜘蛛網上。這一次我立刻把牠救出來，交給那個成功鬆解前隻蒼蠅的女生。幸好這隻蒼蠅沒有被纏結得很緊，而且她也有了一些經驗，所以很快地就鬆解牠了。這一次，我要求她們一定要清掃蜘蛛網，並把蜘蛛請出去，否則我們永遠也無法繼續上打坐課。
因為這些女生目睹被網捕的蒼蠅無助等死的遭遇，而深表同情，我相信她們以後再也不會隨意的傷害蒼蠅，甚至不會被蒼蠅嗡嗡聲所攪惱了！同時，她們也憐憫這隻只知拼命結網捕蟲吃的蜘蛛，因為我們的插手，而沒有食物可吃。我告訴她們：「如果我們沒有智慧，又無良師益友來勸導，就會像那隻蒼蠅一樣盲目地亂飛，或在牆壁上亂撞；最後被纏結在網上動彈不得，悲哀無助而死。」
這些女孩子天性所流露的慈悲讓我感到驚訝，也讓我觀照到其實慈悲是蘊藏在每個人的心中，尤其是小朋友們尚未被貪瞋癡或成人世界中世俗的觀點所泯滅的純潔的心靈。當我們稱念觀音菩薩聖號時，我們確是在返璞歸真回到自性的慈悲，那孩提時的純真善良--它普及到所有的眾生中，乃至最微小的生靈。
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Last Friday, as I sat down for meditation with the 4-6th grade girls, one girl said, “Look, there’s a fly caught in the spider web on the window.” Thinking how they are always getting distracted and not able to meditate, I said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably dead. Just close your eyes and meditate.” We chanted Guanyin Pusa’s name, and then hit the fish to start meditating. One minute later, the girl said, “What’s that buzzing sound?” I listened, and sure enough, there was a “bzzz, bzzz” coming from the window. I looked up, and it was coming from where the spider was. Getting up and taking a closer look, I saw that it was the fly struggling to get free from the web that the spider was wrapping around it. I could not stand it any longer, and took a tissue and extracted the fly from the main part of the web. By now all the girls were crowded around me looking. The poor little fly was as if in a cocoon, all wrapped up in white. I tried to pull away some of the webs with my finger, but I felt each time I pulled, I was hurting the fly. It was simply too tightly wrapped. We all recited the Great Compassion Mantra—they recited more sincerely than they ever had before. Finally I told the girls, “It may be too late for this fly—it will probably not live because it is already tightly wrapped and trying to remove the web will injure it more. The only thing we can do is recite and pray that it will have a better rebirth.” Then we put the fly in the middle of the room and sat in a circle around it, reciting Amitabha Buddha’s name. One girl said, “What about the spider? It wasn’t very nice of us to take its food.” Another girl spoke to the spider, “You can be a vegetarian.” Then she took some pieces of green leaves and placed them in its web. At the end of class, we transferred the merit not only to the fly, but to the spider, hoping that they would be reborn in the Pure Land or at least not as flies and spiders. And we left the cocooned fly on the altar in front of the Guanyin statue.
The next day at meditation class, to our surprise, one girl announced, “The fly is still alive. Can I try to free it?” I was surprised the poor fly could still be alive and struggling after 24 hours. I said, “Okay, you try.” She took a piece of tissue and very gently and patiently brushed at the webs. Several other girls also crowded around and took turns trying to free the fly. Meanwhile the rest of the girls decided to recite the Great Compassion Mantra. After a while, one girl said, “One leg is free! How many legs does a fly have?” I held up six fingers and kept reciting. A little later, “One wing is free…The other wing is free!” We recited for almost the whole class period, until finally, one girl ecstatically announced, “We did it! It’s free!” She held up the dazed fly, which was still crawling around on her finger, unable to believe that it was free. All the girls danced about with joy, and I sent them downstairs to release it outside. I asked them if they wanted to take the spider out and clean its web, but they said, “It took the spider a long time to make that web. If we take it outside, it’ll have to start all over again. Besides, if it stays here it can listen to us recite Guanyin’s name.” So I relented.
The next day, however, another fly got caught in the web. This time I didn’t wait. I immediately took it away from the web, and handed it to the girl who had freed the other fly. It took her only a few minutes to free this fly, because it was not as tightly bound and she had more experience now. This time, I asked them to clear away the web and take the spider out; otherwise we would never get to meditate again.
I believe that after this experience these girls will never casually swat a fly or even get annoyed by their buzzing, because they empathized so deeply with the fly being caught and helpless and about to be eaten. At the same time they empathized with the spider, who only knows how to eat insects and works so hard spinning its web, only to have its meal taken away by us. I told them that if we do not have wisdom and good mentors to guide us, we will also be like the fly, buzzing about blindly, bumping into every wall and finally ending up stuck in the web to die.
I was really surprised by their spontaneous compassion—it made me reflect how that compassion exists in everyone, but in children it is still very much alive and not stifled by greed, anger or delusion or the mundane concerns of the adult world. When we recite Guanyin’s name, we are essentially trying to go back to our inherent compassion that we were in touch with as children—compassion that extends to all living things, even the tiniest ones.
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