For
45 years He had wandered around, explaining to anyone who could
understand and who would listen, what He had found beneath the Bodhi
tree on the night of His Enlightenment. Now, here He was, about to
pass away in a forest near the town of Kusinagara. News of His
impending demise had spread, and His disciples had come from far and
wide to see their beloved Master for the last time. Most of them were
sad at the thought of losing the mainstay of their lives, but those
who had understood deeply what He had indicated, and those who were
enlightened themselves thereby, were calm and composed.
Ananda,
His favorite disciple and personal attendant, was greatly distressed
that his Master was about to leave him—he, who had
still to find enlightenment—but the
Buddha consoled him, saying: "Enough, Ananda, do not grieve and
weep, for have I not taught you that it is in the nature of things
near and dear to us that we should be separated and cut off from them?
How could it be that this body of mine, having been born should not
die? For a long time, Ananda, you have served me faithfully in
thought, word and deed, graciously, pleasantly, with a whole heart,
and without measure. Great good have you gathered, Ananda. Now you
should put forth energy, and soon, you too, will be one who is
free!"