THE PRODIGAL SON

                                    

By William M. Balsamo

 

     I have been waiting for him to return. It has been more than six years now, six long years without notice of him. I have not received a call or postcard or email or letter. The last he said to me was, “I’ll be in touch.”

     He has gone out to fend for himself to be among wolves, to experience what he only dreamt about before I met him.

    I cannot believe that he has forgotten me or that he could be so ungrateful and I could less believe that he had lied and was so deceptive.

 

    I first met him over ten year ago when he was still a monk in the temple. The concept of a boy monk is incongruous. How could a child ever know or value the concept of nothingness and denial when in youth everything is experience and want, acquisition and pleasure. What does a boy of ten know about the abstract concept of God or even really care to know.

     But Ailan was fifteen when he entered the temple. He was a gift to God from his parents who had more than enough children to handle. When I met him he was sitting in temple reading a comic book surrounded by josh sticks and fanning himself with a piece of cardboard. I was in a distant corner of the temple sitting beneath a rusted electric fan attempting to escape from the humidity and the heat.

 

    He noticed me but I did not see him as more than a shadow beneath the image of the bronze Buddha.

    Later that same afternoon I me him in the marketplace where he was searching for another comic book and he approached me in half-broken English and said,” I saw you today in temple.”

    I was startled because I did not think he had observed.

    “I am a poor monk,” he continued, “Would you help me to study at the college?”

    Most monks I knew begged for their daily bowl of rice. This one was begging for an education. He wasn’t really begging but he was definitely looking for a sponsor to complete his education.

    I offered him some food instead.

    “No. This is Buddhist Lent. I cannot eat such food today,” he complained. “What I need is not food but an education and I have no money.”

    We entered into a lengthy discussion about Buddhism and I asked him why he became a monk at such an early age. It was obvious from his answer that the decision was not his and that he wanted to leave the temple but could not so without securing an education.

 

    When I returned back to my home country I kept in touch with him and he wrote diligently and repeatedly asking me for financial support. My resistance gave way to compassion as he saw me as his savior, his guardian, his potential benefactor, his only guarantee for possible exit from the temple. Finally, I agreed to sponsor him through college.

    I paid for his first semester at a local college when he planned to study and major in English. The results of the first term’s work indicated that he was either not studying very hard or was not capable of handling the assignments. I admonished him to study harder and to do his best, but in his response he shifted the blame from himself to his teachers.

    “My teachers are too strict,” he complained. “They favor only the rich students. If you have money they spend more time with you.”

     He also blamed the temple.

     “The young novices make too much noise. They should be in bed but they are always playing games and I cannot study.”

 

    I decided  to contact the college directly and received a different picture from his teachers and supervisors. Monk Ailan was a lazy student, cut classes, didn’t prepare his assignments and was never prepared for classes.

    When confronted with this reality Monk Ailan claimed illness and a bout with malaria. He seemed to be filled with excuses and the longer I got to know him the less interest he had in matters concerned with the spiritual.

 

     I began to lose patience with him when his marks did not improve and realized that he was not so much interested in his studies as he was in leaving the temple. I began to have doubts about his intentions to study and I saw little improvement in his English. At times it even began to show signs of deterioration.

    But with each passing day I saw signs of a weak character, one which was driven more by survival than ethics, but I was too forgiving and too naïve to see that he was being possessed by an obsession to leave the temple. I advised him to continue his studies but he was adamant on becoming a layman.  

      “For sure I will leave before Buddhist Lent!” he threatened with determination.

 

    One day after a month of urging him to continue his studies I received notice from him that he had indeed “taken off the orange” and was a lay person. We agreed to meet in the town close to where his temple was located and discuss further his education. His appearance was now completely changed. Instead of his orange robes he wore jeans and a T-shirt. His once shaven head was now beginning to sport a crew cut and he was eager to let it grow into curly shoulder-length locks. He now wore rings and a watch which he relished as a sign of his new freedom. His transformation was total like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. His metamorphosis was nearing completion with the sole exception of his finances.

 

    I met him at a café overlooking the river and within moments the topic of money came up.

    “I need money now for my life. I need to have a motorbike and cell phone and to pay rent for my room and…”

    I stopped him and reminded him he must first complete his studies before other things could be taken into consideration. After a lengthy discussion he agreed to finish his studies. There was only one more semester left and after that he would receive his college degree and be free to lead the life of a layman.

     It had always been my contention that I would support his education and nothing more. The other luxuries of life could come after but education was the first priority. Since I was providing the funds I felt I had the definitive say on how the money was spent.

     He finally agreed reluctantly to my offer to pay only for the final installment of his studies and vowed that he would finish his college and think of motorbikes and cell phones later.

     Our last meeting ended cordially and I felt assured that he would return to his studies. I gave him four hundred dollars for the tuition and wished him well.

 

     A month passed and he reached me by email saying that he had spent all the money I gave him on medical bills for both himself and his parents. His letter stated that his parents were very ill and he had to give them the money for doctor visits and medicine and later he became ill with a touch of malaria and had to pay bills for himself. So, the four hundred dollars was all gone.

    I was furious and did not believe his story and felt that honesty had been betrayed.

Through a series of email exchanges he swore by Buddha that he was telling the truth, but when I contacted the college I learned that he dropped out of college to acquire a cell phone. The four hundred dollars intended for tuition was channeled to service his personal needs for full transformation into the life of the lay man.

The last contact I received from him revealed his plans for the future. He was leaving the town where he had lived his temple days and was going to move into the “big City” where he secured employment with a travel agent as a tour guide.

 

    I told him that it was his responsibility to give the 400 dollars intended for his tuition back to the college and, since he was now employed he could do this over a period of a few months. My last instruction to him was to contact the college and to pay back what was their due. I also informed the college of this arrangement. They had little hope that the money would be returned and were not surprised that Ailan had acted so disgracefully.

 

    I have not heard from him in six years. He is now a layman and enjoying his freedom. He is now away from the security of the temple and living in the world of the average man where money can become a weapon, a tool for using others, a power to purchase the pleasures of the material world. Perhaps he is married and has a brood of children. Who knows?

    I wait…maybe naively so…for him to return an honest man and to merit his honor. I wait with the hope that he will come back to finish his studies and to repay the college the four hundred dollars which was intended for his education.

    So far there is no answer to my emails. I know he reads them because they are not returned only unanswered….So, I wait and wait for the prodigal son to return.