The Vesak Lotus

The story

It grows up through dark water from the mud at the bottom, and it opens clean. Rain runs off it without wetting it. It closes at night and opens again in the morning, which is why it has stood for beginning again in so many traditions for so long. On Vesak evening the water around it fills with small floating lanterns.

Where it actually comes from

Vesak — also Buddha Purnima, Wesak or Saga Dawa — falls on the full moon of the lunar month Vesakha, usually in May, and commemorates the birth, enlightenment and passing of the Buddha, held by many Theravada traditions to have occurred on the same day of the year. Observances vary widely: lanterns and lamps, offerings of flowers and incense, giving to those in need, freeing captive animals, vegetarian meals, and in Sri Lanka the great illuminated lantern displays. The United Nations formally recognized Vesak in 1999. The lotus is among the oldest and most widespread Buddhist symbols, precisely because it is rooted in mud and opens unstained above the water.

What it does for a child

Vesak is the quietest festival in this catalog and that is its value. Where most celebrations are additive — more lights, more food, more noise — this one is about subtraction: be gentler, take less, harm nothing for a day. Children are rarely offered a festival shaped like that, and it lands especially well with the ones who find loud celebrations difficult. The lotus is also the kindest available image for a child having a hard year.

The Morning the Lotuses Opened

A story to read aloud · about 4 minutes

Long ago, in the green land at the foot of the Himalaya mountains, there were two towns called Kapilavastu and Devadaha. Between them lay a grove of tall sal trees called Lumbini. The grove did not belong to one town or the other. It belonged to the people of both.

One spring, Queen Maha Maya of Kapilavastu wished to travel to Devadaha, the town of her own people. King Suddhodana had the whole road made smooth. He decorated it with arches of banana leaves, with jars of fresh, cool water, and with flags and banners. The Queen rode in a golden carriage carried on the shoulders of many helpers, and a long, happy procession went along with her.

In the procession walked a girl named Sumana, who carried a little water jar. She had never been so far from home, and she looked at everything.

When they came to the Lumbini grove, Sumana stopped and stared. The sal trees were blooming from their roots to their very tops. Bees of every color hummed among the blossoms, and flocks of birds sang sweetly in the branches. The whole grove looked like a great hall decorated for a feast.

The Queen wished to rest in the grove, so the procession turned in among the trees. When she came to the greatest sal tree of all, she reached up for one of its branches, and the branch bent gently down to meet her hand, as soft as a reed.

And there, beneath the great sal tree, a baby prince was born. He was the child who would one day be called the Buddha, the Awakened One.

At that very same hour, all around the world, wonderful things began to happen.

The earth was covered with lotuses of every color. Flowers blossomed on the land and in the water. Every tree burst into bloom. Lotuses sprang up in groups of seven, pushing their way up even through the rocks, and more lotuses drifted down from the sky like soft rain.

The wild animals stopped being afraid. Horses whinnied, and elephants trumpeted gently. Every musical instrument played its own sweet sound, though no one was playing it, and bracelets jingled all by themselves. The sky grew clear, and a cool, soft breeze blew for everyone. And all the people began to speak kindly to one another.

Sumana ran to the edge of a little pond. That morning it had held only flat green leaves. Now it was crowded with lotus flowers, pink and white and blue, wide open and glowing in the sunshine. She knelt down beside it and whispered, “Even the flowers have come to say welcome.”

Then the people of both towns came together, and they carried the baby prince home to Kapilavastu, with music and flowers all along the way. Sumana walked with them, carrying a lotus in her hands instead of her water jar.

Every year, Buddhists around the world remember that day at Vesak, under the full moon of spring. People bring lotus flowers to the temples, hang up lanterns, light lamps, share food and try especially hard to be kind.

The lotus grows in muddy water, yet it rises up and opens clean and bright in the sun. So when you see a lotus, think of that spring morning in Lumbini, when the whole world bloomed to say welcome.

Adapted from trans. T. W. Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories (Jataka Tales): The Nidāna-Kathā, ‘The Distant Epoch’ and ‘The Intermediate Epoch’ (1880). Public domain. Read the original.

More from the story

A few more pictures to look at together.