The Story of the Lama’s Servant

The Story of the Lama’s Servant

High in the Tibetan mountains, where paths wound between rocky slopes and the wind made prayer flags chime, lived an old lama. His small house stood almost at the top of a hill. The lama loved quiet, simple food, and long hours of peaceful thought.

A young servant named Rinzin helped him.

Rinzin was cheerful, inventive, and very clever. But he did not much like working steadily and patiently. If a task could be done by a shorter path, Rinzin was sure to look for it. And if no short path existed, he often tried to invent one.

The lama ate very modestly: barley flour, butter, cheese, flatbread, and vegetables. He taught Rinzin not to cause needless harm to living creatures.

“Food should support us,” he said, “not make us cruel.”

Rinzin nodded, though he sometimes sighed over his bowl of barley porridge.

One day, a sheep from a flock grazing in the valley wandered near the house. Rinzin caught her and tied her in the lower room so she would not stray onto the steep slope.

Then he went up to the lama.

“Teacher, I found someone’s sheep. Please hold this rope while I run to look for the shepherd.”

The lama took the rope.

“Very well. But do not be long.”

Rinzin went downstairs. Yet instead of running straight to the valley, he decided to make a joke. He gently pulled the sheep one way, and the lama, feeling the tug, pulled the rope the other way.

“What a stubborn creature!” grumbled Rinzin.

The sheep grew frightened, bleated loudly, pulled free of the rope, and ran outside.

At that very moment, a shepherd boy appeared, searching for his lost sheep.

He saw Rinzin holding the rope and asked angrily, “What are you doing?”

Rinzin opened his mouth for another invention, but the shepherd spoke first.

“I saw everything. Once again, you wanted to use a trick to make someone else responsible for your actions.”

Meanwhile, the sheep ran peacefully back to her flock.

That evening the shepherd told the lama everything.

The old man was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Rinzin, cleverness is a good thing. But if you use it to cover a lie, it stops being wisdom.”

Rinzin lowered his head.

“I only wanted to make a joke.”

“A joke that makes someone else answer for what you have done is not a very good joke. You must live on your own for a while and learn to be responsible for yourself.”

So Rinzin gathered a small bundle and went down the mountain to seek his fortune.

At first he walked sadly. But he did not know how to stay sad for long. Soon Rinzin was whistling and looking at the road around him.

Toward evening he caught up with another young man.

“Where are you going?” asked the stranger.

“Wherever my feet take me,” answered Rinzin. “I want to earn some money and prove that I can manage on my own.”

The man smiled.

“Then let us go together. I too am looking for a chance to earn money.”

Rinzin did not yet know that his new companion was a sly trickster.

By evening they reached a large house in a green valley. The owner of the house had recently died, and his daughter remained there. She had once had a brother who had left home long ago and never returned.

Rinzin’s companion learned this and immediately made a deceitful plan.

“Listen,” he whispered. “I will say that I am the missing brother. You will hide in the dark room next door. When I ask aloud whether the owner’s son has truly returned, answer in a deep voice, ‘Yes.’”

Rinzin scratched his head.

“But that is deception.”

“Only a small performance. We will take a little money and go.”

Rinzin hesitated. He remembered the lama’s words about cleverness without honesty. But the temptation proved stronger.

“All right,” he said. “Only no harm must come to the girl.”

The plan worked. In the half-dark room, Rinzin answered the question in a low voice, and the girl believed that her long-lost brother had returned. She agreed to give him a bag of gold for his journey.

The trickster promised Rinzin that they would divide the money equally.

But as soon as evening came, he ran away with all the gold.

In the morning, Rinzin came out of the house and asked, “Where is my companion?”

“He left in the night,” answered the girl. “I gave him a bag of gold.”

Rinzin gave a low whistle.

“So much for an honest division.”

He felt ashamed not only because he had been cheated. He understood that he had agreed to a lie, and now the lie had come back to him.

“I will return your gold,” he told the girl.

She looked at him in surprise.

“Do you know where he went?”

“More or less. And I know that he likes easy gain.”

Rinzin borrowed a horse and raced along the road.

At midday he saw the trickster far ahead. The man was resting beneath a tree beside the heavy bag.

Rinzin did not ride straight up to him. He galloped past as though in a great hurry. A little farther on, he placed one new boot from his bundle in the middle of the road.

Several bends later, he placed the second boot and hid behind a bush.

Soon the trickster appeared with the bag of gold.

“A fine boot,” he muttered when he saw the first one. “A pity it is only one. One is no use to me.”

He walked on.

Then he saw the second boot and stopped.

“What luck! I must go back for the first.”

The bag was heavy, so he hid it under a heap of dry grass and hurried back.

As soon as he disappeared around the bend, Rinzin came out of hiding, took the bag, and rode back to the large house.

The girl could not believe her eyes.

“You brought it all back?”

“Every coin,” said Rinzin. “And I believe I found something else as well.”

“What?”

“Understanding. If you begin a thing with deception, do not be surprised when deception turns against you.”

The girl thanked him and wanted to give him a reward, but Rinzin took only a little food for the road.

“That is enough. I have one more thing to do.”

“What is that?”

“Return to the lama and honestly tell him that he was right.”

When Rinzin climbed the familiar hill again, the old lama sat by the door looking toward the distant mountains.

“You have returned,” he said.

“Yes, Teacher.”

“Rich?”

Rinzin smiled.

“Not very. But a little wiser.”

The lama nodded.

“That is wealth which is harder to lose.”

From then on, Rinzin remained cheerful and inventive. But before every trick, he learned to ask himself, “Will someone else have to pay for my joke?”

And if the answer was yes, Rinzin thought of another way.

For true cleverness does not only help a person escape trouble. It also shows them how not to walk into trouble in the first place.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨