Title: Ten Yen True
Author: Amanda Armstrong and
Christina St. Clair
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1
Kaizen! That’s what Caitlin,
JJ, Paul, and Tommy need--to change for the better. When they each mysteriously
receive one of four ten yen coins, none of them know or understand why or where
their journey is about to take them.
Ten Yen True
intertwines the lives of four people, all of whom have need of one another to
bring about healing and wholeness and are being mysteriously helped by a
Japanese monk. It is a story of hope, love, forgiveness and miracles, exploring
the spiritual and psychological underpinnings of the main characters,
demonstrating the interconnectedness of human beings.
EXCERPT
For
many years the Monk sat beside the Ajiike pond in
the early morning, as he did today, breathing
in the peaceful settings of the Pure Land gardens. He inhaled deeply the
fragrance of jasmine and lotus. The cool morning air refreshed him, soon the
sun would rise in the sky and the day would become increasingly hot and humid.
Sometimes
his meditation took an hour, maybe more, but always he sat here away from the
others. Ordinarily he felt at peace with nature and with the world. Today,
however, was different. Something churned inside him, causing his usual calm to
be replaced by sorrow, making him feel restless and helpless.
He
was angry at the awful atrocities of nature so recently bestowed upon his
people. The tsunami, that powerful wave from a sea gone wild, was not so
unusual here in Japan. This one had snatched away thousands of people, young
and old, innocent babies and little creatures alike, leaving whole villages
crushed. It seemed incomprehensible to him. The wave had severely damaged the
nuclear power plants, but the damage from leaking radiation could not even be
seen. No wonder he found himself questioning the unknown and unpredictable
forces of the world.
In
spite of his balanced spiritual state of mind, there was something more he did
not understand about this latest tragedy. His wisdom and experience had taught
him long ago the gods have a purpose and it must be accepted. However awful, it
must never be challenged. This unrest in him refused to go away today though.
He felt as if he were being confronted with an obligation to
discover the reasons why the gods had become so angry.
Was
this a test, a task? Desperately, the Monk tried to calm himself, struggling
with the angry thoughts swirling around in his brain threatening to cut his
conscious mind into shreds. What did the gods want of him?
A
sudden breeze blew across the pond, startling the Monk. He smoothed his grey
robes around his legs, wishing he could help even a few of the people in more
tangible ways than merely through prayer and funeral rites. His eyelids closed.
He resumed his steady breathing, trying to focus his mind within the chamber of
his heart, trying to still the darts of anger. The sun's warmth upon his face
belied a bone chilling cold creeping up his spine. Shivering, fearful, he
looked skywards at rolling black clouds.
Hearing
the swishing of robes, he turned to see a small dark boy standing behind him.
He looked deep into those young black eyes and breathed in sharply, giving a slight
nod to the child, indicating permission to
communicate.
The
boy knelt before the Monk, his head bowed, hands together in respectful prayer.
The
Monk put out a gentle hand and placed it on the shaven head of the youngster.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on giving spiritual energy and wisdom to this
young one, but he felt power emanating from the child into his soul as well.
A
roar of thunder came from the darkened skies and seemed to vibrate through his
mind and his body. Lightning flashed striking the pond, igniting his awareness.
At once, the Monk understood. He knew what he must do. He held out his hand to
the boy, who wordlessly reached into the obi around his waist and handed the
monk a silk pouch. The Monk knew without looking what was inside. Coins. Lucky
ten yen pieces for those who received them. The recipients, though, would not
understand or appreciate the gift they were going to receive.
The
monk lowered his head, watching the boy slowly backing away, bowing until he
disappeared behind sheets of rain splashing into the pond.
The
Monk ignored the droplets streaming down his face and soaking through his
robes. He carefully untied the drawstring of the pouch, emptying its contents
into his hand: one, two, three, four coins. The Monk sighed. There would be
four people he must select. He looked towards heaven and nodded to the gods. He
slowly rose to his feet and waded through the pond's lapping waters on his way
to Phoenix Hall. His feet hardly caused a ripple in the puddles, but his robes,
like wicks, sopped up moisture, making him aware of his weighty responsibility.
Amida, he knew, sitting calmly on his dais, his golden face shining expectantly
awaited him.
No comments:
Post a Comment