Sati & Nanda and the Bell Before Sunrise

Late afternoon rested softly over the monastery.

The heat of the day had begun to loosen its grip, and the lotus pond glowed green and pink beneath the lowering sun.

Sati sat on a flat stone, slowly rolling a strand of wooden prayer beads through his fingers.

Beside him, Nanda lifted a lotus flower to his nose and sniffed.

“Hmm.”

Sati looked over. “What?”

“It doesn’t smell like much.”

“You said that about the last flower.”

“I thought this one would smell better.”

Sati smiled. “Maybe flowers just smell how they smell.”

Nanda sniffed it again.

“This one should try harder.”

Sati laughed.

Sati and Nanda had arrived at the monastery during the same rainy season.

They were close in age. They wore the same simple robes, studied with the same teachers, ate from the same kitchen, and somehow managed to be completely different.

Sati liked knowing what was going to happen.

Nanda liked finding out.

Sati noticed when one candle burned lower than all the others.

Nanda noticed the gecko hiding behind the candles.

And although Sati would never have admitted it, life had become considerably more interesting since Nanda arrived.

That afternoon, Venerable Anurak found them near the pond.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said, “you two will ring the monastery bell.”

Nanda sat up straight.

“The great bell?”

“The very same.”

“The one everyone can hear in the village?”

“Yes.”

“How far can they hear it?”

“Far enough.”

“Past the rice fields?”

“Probably.”

“To the river?”

“Perhaps.”

Sati had a different question.

“What time should we be ready?”

“Before sunrise.”

Sati nodded.

Nanda looked across the gardens toward the bell pavilion.

“Has anyone ever rung it in the middle of the night?”

Sati slowly turned toward him.

Venerable Anurak raised one eyebrow.

“I suggest neither of you become the first.”

Before the Monastery Sleeps

That evening, Venerable Anurak showed them how to use the great wooden striker.

The bronze bell towered above them.

A lotus had been carved into its side, worn smooth in places by years of rain and morning light.

“It does not require much force,” Venerable Anurak explained.

Nanda immediately placed both hands behind his back.

Venerable Anurak noticed.

“A bell is easy to strike,” he said. “The difficult part is knowing when to strike it.”

Sati remembered those words.

Nanda remembered how magnificent the bell would sound.

By nightfall, the monastery was quiet.

Sati fell asleep quickly.

Nanda did not.

He lay awake imagining the sound of the bell rolling beyond the monastery walls, across the village and through the rice fields.

Perhaps it really could reach the river.

Eventually, his eyes closed.

Then, deep in the night, they opened again.

Gong.

Nanda sat up.

He listened.

Nothing.

Then...

gong.

“Sati.”

No answer.

“Sati.”

Sati rolled away.

“Nanda.”

“How do you know it is me?”

“Because nobody else whispers my name in the middle of the night.”

“I heard the bell.”

“You dreamed the bell.”

They waited.

Silence.

Sati pulled his blanket higher.

Then...

gong.

Both boys sat upright.

Nanda whispered, “That was the bell.”

This time Sati did not disagree.

“What if someone is out there?” Nanda asked.

“We should wake Venerable Anurak.”

“What if it stops before he gets there?”

“That would be convenient.”

Nanda was already climbing from his mat.

Sati sighed.
“You’re going anyway, aren’t you?”

“I’m just going to look.”

Sati frowned. “You always say that.”

A moment later, Sati climbed out of bed too.

Under the Moon

Outside, the monastery seemed like another world.

Moonlight covered the roofs in silver.

The daytime heat had disappeared, and the stone path felt cool beneath their sandals.

The lotus blossoms had folded themselves closed for the night.

Nanda walked ahead.

Sati followed.

Behind them came the monastery's little black cat, who apparently believed anything worth sneaking toward was worth investigating.

“You should go back,” Sati whispered to the cat.

The cat ignored him.

Nanda smiled.

“He doesn’t listen either.”

Sati sighed. “Great. Now there are two of you.”

They crossed the courtyard.

The bell pavilion stood ahead of them.

Empty.

Then Nanda stopped.

Sati nearly walked into him.

“What?”

Nanda pointed.

The wooden striker was moving.

Back.

Forward.

Back.

Forward.

Sati looked toward the hanging ropes.

A night breeze moved through the trees.

One loose rope was brushing against the pavilion, making the faint metallic sound they had heard.

Nanda exhaled.

“It was only the wind.”

“Good,” Sati said. “Now we can go back.”

The rope swung again.

Nanda reached toward it.

“Wait.”

“I am only stopping it.”

“Nanda.”

The rope slipped through his fingers.

The heavy wooden striker moved backward.

Both boys froze.

Then it began moving forward.

“Nanda.”

“I know.”

“Nanda!”

BOOOOOOOONG.

Birds exploded from the trees.

The black cat disappeared beneath a bench.

Sati nearly dropped his prayer beads.

The great bell continued to hum.

Gooooooooong...

Nanda stared at the bell.
Sati stared at Nanda.

“I grabbed the wrong rope,” Nanda whispered.

Lights began to glow in the monks’ rooms.

Somewhere beyond the wall, a rooster crowed.
Then another one answered.

Nanda looked up at the moon.

“But it’s still nighttime.”

“I know.”

Nanda listened to the roosters.

“I don’t think they know.”

Footsteps came closer.

Nanda leaned toward Sati.

“Should we hide?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Nanda sighed.

“I was hoping you’d say no.”

“I have never really tried.”

Venerable Anurak stepped beneath the pavilion.

He looked at the bell.

Then Sati.

Then Nanda.

Then the black cat peeking from beneath the bench.

No one spoke.

Finally, Venerable Anurak sat down.

“Come.”

That was somehow worse than being scolded.

Listen Until It Is Gone

The boys sat beside him near the lotus pond.

For a while, no one spoke.

The bell was still vibrating.

Venerable Anurak closed his eyes.

“Listen.”

The boys listened.

Gonnnnng...

The sound became softer.

And softer.

Until finally...

nothing.

Venerable Anurak opened his eyes.

“Where did the sound go?”

Nanda looked beneath the bell.

Sati frowned.

“It stopped.”

“Yes.”

“But where did it go?” Venerable Anurak asked again.

Neither boy knew.

Nanda finally admitted it.

“I don't know.”

Venerable Anurak smiled.

“Good.”

Nanda blinked.

“Good?”

“There is wisdom in knowing when you do not know.”

Venerable Anurak picked up a fallen lotus

petal.

“The Buddha once taught his son, Rahula, to pay close attention to his actions.”

He held the petal in his palm.

“Before you do something, look at what you are about to do.”

“While you are doing it, notice what is happening.”

“And afterward, look again and ask what you can learn.”

“Like looking into a mirror?” Sati asked.

“Exactly.”

Nanda glanced toward the bell.

“I think I forgot the part before.”

Venerable Anurak smiled.

“What might you have asked yourself?”

Nanda thought.

“Maybe... what will happen if I pull this rope?”

“That would have been useful.”

Sati tried not to laugh.

Then Venerable Anurak turned toward him.

“And you?”

Sati looked surprised.

“I told him to stop.”

“You did.”

Sati waited.

“But then you followed him.”

Nanda’s face brightened.
Sati frowned at him.

“Okay,” Sati said. “Maybe I should have stopped too.”

Venerable Anurak nodded.

“Mindfulness does not mean you never make mistakes.”

The boys listened.

“It means you notice what happened, and you learn from it.”

Nanda looked toward the sleeping rooms.

“So now we say sorry?”

“Yes.”

“And try not to do it again?”

Venerable Anurak smiled. “That would help.”

Nanda looked at the bell.

“I’m definitely not touching that rope again.”

Sati nodded.

“Good.”

Nanda glanced at him.

“At least not tonight.”

“Nanda.”

“I’m kidding!”

The Bell Before Sunrise

The black sky slowly became blue.

Blue became violet.

Then a thin line of gold appeared beyond the trees.

To Nanda's surprise, Venerable Anurak brought them back to the bell.

“You are still letting us ring it?”

“You were chosen to ring the morning bell.”

“But I already rang it.”

Venerable Anurak shook his head.

“You accidentally struck a bell.”

He motioned toward the wooden striker.

“Now you will learn to ring one.”

The monks began gathering in the courtyard.

This time, the boys did not rush.

Sati felt the cool stone beneath his feet.

Nanda noticed the morning air against his face.

A bird called from the tamarind tree.

The first lotus blossoms began to open.

Together, they placed their hands on the wooden striker.

Venerable Anurak nodded.

They pulled.

The striker moved backward.

Then forward.

BOOOOOOOONG.

The sound traveled over the lotus pond.

Beyond the monastery wall.

Through the waking village.

Across the rice fields.

Perhaps even all the way to the river.

Sati and Nanda listened until the sound grew softer.

And softer.

And finally disappeared.

Nanda smiled.

“That sounded better.”

Sati looked at the bell.

“It was exactly the same bell.”

Nanda thought about that.

Then he smiled too.

The bell had not changed.

They had.

Something Waiting

Later that morning, sunlight filled the monastery.

Sati and Nanda were sweeping leaves beneath the tamarind tree when Venerable Anurak called them into the library.

Inside, old books and palm-leaf manuscripts lined the shelves.

In one corner sat a wooden chest.

Lotus flowers were carved across its lid.

Nanda immediately stepped closer.

“What is that?”

Venerable Anurak opened it.

Inside were things that seemed to have nothing to do with one another.

A white feather.

A smooth river stone.

A tiny clay elephant.

A seed pod.

A little wooden boat.

A piece of red thread.

And a small round mirror.

Neither boy spoke.

Venerable Anurak lifted the mirror.

“Do you remember what we spoke about last night?”

“Rahula,” Sati said.

“And looking carefully at what we do,” Nanda added.

Venerable Anurak handed them the mirror.

“This will remind you.”

Nanda studied his reflection.

Then his eyes drifted back toward the chest.

“What is the feather for?”

Venerable Anurak closed the lid.

Nanda looked horrified.

“But I was only asking.”

“I know.”

“Will you tell us?”

“Not today.”

Nanda turned toward Sati.

Sati immediately recognized the expression.

“No.”

“I haven't said anything.”

“You don't have to.”

Venerable Anurak smiled.

“There will be other days.”

As they walked back into the bright morning, Nanda looked over his shoulder.

A feather.

A stone.

An elephant.

A seed.

A boat.

A red thread.

And who knew what else might be waiting beneath them?

Sati noticed.

“Nanda.”

“I am coming.”

He hurried after his friend.

Outside, the lotus pond glittered beneath the sun.

The bell was quiet.

For now.

And somewhere inside the old wooden chest...

another story was waiting.