Buddhist jātaka · told across Asia
4 minutes to read aloud · ages 5–10
A long time ago, in a forest, there lived a monkey, a fox and a hare, and they were friends.
They were good friends too — the sort who look out for one another. And they had agreed between themselves that if anybody ever came through the forest in trouble, they would help.
One evening an old man came along the path. He was thin and grey and walking badly, and he sat down heavily on a stone and said he had not eaten in days.
The monkey was off at once. Monkeys are fast and monkeys are clever and monkeys know exactly which tree has what on it. He came back with an armful of fruit and set it down in front of the old man.
The fox went down to the river, because foxes know rivers, and came back with fish, and set them down too.
And the hare went out into the field.
Now, a hare eats grass. That is the whole of it. And you cannot bring a starving man a mouthful of grass and call it dinner. The hare went up and down that field in the dark and there was nothing — nothing he could carry, nothing he could offer, nothing at all.
He came back with empty paws.
And he said to the old man: I am sorry. I have looked everywhere. I have nothing to bring you except myself.
And then, before anybody could stop him, the hare jumped into the fire.
But the fire did not burn him. Not at all. It was cool, like water.
Because the old man was not an old man. He had been watching the three of them the whole time, to see what they would do, and now he stood up straight and the forest went bright.
And he said to the hare: the others gave what they happened to have. You gave everything there was. I am not going to let that be forgotten.
And he reached up — and he drew the shape of the hare onto the face of the moon, so it would be up there where everybody in the world could see it, every clear night, for ever.
And it is still there. Go out tonight when the moon is full and look at the dark patches on it. Do not look for a face; everybody looks for a face and that is why they miss it. Look for a hare, sitting up, holding a pestle, pounding away at something.
Once you have seen it you will never be able to stop seeing it.
That is why, at the Mid-Autumn Festival, families go outside and look up at the same moon at the same time, even the ones who are very far apart. And it is why the mooncake is round, and why it gets cut into pieces so that everybody gets some — even the ones who did not bring anything.
Having nothing to give is not the same as having nothing to give.