The Lion and the Woodpecker
This story is from the Jataka Tales, which are described as stories of the Buddha’s past lives. Whether or not we take them literally as former lives of the Buddha, their main purpose is to illustrate different aspects of Buddhist practice. The introduction to this particular story sums it up as, ‘Even when provoked, a virtuous person doesn’t resort to doing harm, having trained themselves to refrain’.
Part one: Setting the scene
It is said that the Buddha, whilst still training as a Bodhisattva, once lived deep in a forest as a woodpecker, and had beautiful feathers of many colours. Although she was a woodpecker, she didn’t live as other woodpeckers lived, eating grubs and insects, because out of her great compassion she didn’t want to harm any living beings.
Instead she satisfied herself with the young shoots of the trees and their sweet and delicious flowers, as well as with their fruits, which were of all different colours, smells and flavours.
She did what she could to help all her fellow creatures, by teaching them about the Buddhist precepts whenever the opportunity arose, by helping those in difficulties as much as she was able to, and by helping those driven by greed and anger to see the wisdom of acting compassionately.
In this way all of the creatures in that part of the forest were protected and supported by this Great Being, and as a result they prospered and were content. In the woodpecker they had a kind teacher, a loving parent, a skilled doctor and a wise ruler. As their practice of living in harmony with each other increased, so their contentment grew.
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Part two: The first meeting
One day, when the Great Being was flying from place to place throughout the forest, calling in on the creatures who lived there as she went, she saw in the distance a lion writhing in pain on the forest floor, his mane all dusty and dishevelled. The woodpecker knew full well that the lion was a very dangerous animal who would eat her if he got the chance, and that no one would expect her to have anything to do with him, but out of her great compassion she was concerned for this suffering fellow-creature. She flew down to where the lion lay, and as she cautiously approached him she asked, “What is the matter with you, O king of the jungle, that you are crying out so loudly? Have you been hit by a poisoned arrow, or are you exhausted from fighting elephants or chasing deer? Or have you been suddenly struck down by a disease or illness? Is there anything that I can do to help you in your predicament? If there is, I certainly will.”
The lion replied to her, saying, “O most virtuous of creatures and best of birds, it is none of these things that’s causing me to writhe in pain. It’s not a poisoned arrow, nor is it exhaustion, and it isn’t a disease or illness either. What has happened is that when I was eating a meal earlier on, a small fragment of bone got stuck in my throat. I can feel it there now like a dagger piercing the skin, and it really is very painful indeed. It is jammed across my throat, so that I can’t swallow it and I can’t spit it out. It is completely stuck, and I don’t know what to do about it. If you know of any way to remove this wretched object and are able to help me with it I would be really very grateful.”
The woodpecker thought about the situation for a while, and then came up with an ingenious plan to extract the troublesome object from the lion’s throat. First of all she asked the lion to open his mouth as wide as he could, and then, taking a piece of wood of just the right length, she jammed it between the two rows of huge sharp teeth in his upper and lower jaws. The lion’s mouth was now safely propped open. Having done this, the woodpecker then hopped inside and stuck her head part way down the lion’s throat to have a look at what was going on there.
Immediately she could see where the piece of bone was, jammed across the lion’s throat and piercing the skin on one side, just as the lion had described it. Grabbing hold of the fragment of bone with her beak, she was quickly able to dislodge it, and hopping back out of the lion’s mouth with it, she threw it down on the ground. Having got safely back out of the lion’s mouth she then pulled out the stick that was propping it open, and stood back to see the result of her handiwork. The lion let out a great sigh of relief, as he found that he was able to swallow again without a stabbing pain in his throat.
Although the woodpecker wasn’t trained as a doctor, her compassion for the injured lion led her to find a way to relieve him, and to take a risk with her life that many skilled physicians may not have dared to do. Having taken away the lion’s pain, the woodpecker felt great joy at having been able to help a fellow creature. She felt at least as much joy as the lion did when he realised that the bone had been removed from his throat. Sympathetic joy at the good fortune of others is one of the many fruits of Buddhist practice.
Helping the lion had been hard work, and had actually been quite dangerous for her, but the woodpecker also felt much more joy at the lion’s release from pain than she would have done if she herself had been saved from such a situation.
The lion was now restored to good health, and he thanked the kind woodpecker for all that she had done. The woodpecker was very pleased to have been able to help, and with content in her heart she continued on her way.
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Part three: The second meeting
A little while after this incident happened, a great heatwave and drought hit the forest, leading to a widespread famine amongst all of the creatures that lived there. Wherever the woodpecker flew on her beautiful outstretched wings, she couldn’t find even a morsel of food to eat, as all the trees and plants had dried out and shrivelled in the heat. It had been this way for many days now, and the woodpecker could feel the hunger gnawing at her stomach. As she glided about through the hot air high above the forest, she once again caught sight of the lion down below her, just as a few weeks earlier she had caught sight of him. But this time she could see that the lion was tucking into a young antelope that he had just caught. The woodpecker could see how the lion’s mouth and claws were stained with the antelope’s blood, which had also soaked into his luxuriant mane, making it look like the edge of a floating cloud at sunset. The hungry woodpecker flew down and landed just in front of the feasting lion.
Even though she had recently done the lion such a big favour, the woodpecker still didn’t feel it was quite appropriate for her to ask the lion outright to share his food with her, but she trusted that the lion would look kindly on her, as she had helped him so generously not that long ago. So, without saying anything at all, the woodpecker just walked up and down in front of the lion, where he could clearly see her.
It must have been obvious to the lion that the poor woodpecker was starving from a lack of her usual food, but the ungrateful lion just totally ignored her and carried on with his meal. The story describes his reaction like this: “A benefit bestowed on an ungrateful person is like seed sown on a rock; it can’t sprout on such barren ground, and so doesn’t bear any fruit.”
Then the woodpecker Bodhisattva thought to herself, “Perhaps the lion doesn’t recognise me,” and addressing him directly she reminded him of their last meeting, but the lion just looked away and kept on eating. As a hint to the lion that she would very much welcome a donation of some of his food, she then said the traditional verse that mendicants recite when receiving food,
The two kinds of alms, material and spiritual,
Have the endowment of boundless merit:
Now that they have been fulfilled in this act of charity
Both self and others gain pleasure therefrom.
But the lion didn’t know this verse, or chose to ignore it, and just carried on munching, so the woodpecker made the meaning clearer by politely asking the lion whether he might be willing to let her have even the smallest portion of his meal. Still he ignored her.
The poor woodpecker, weak with hunger, tried one last time saying, “May you be blessed, great lord of the jungle, you who make your living through your speed and strength. Please, please, consider the plight of this poor mendicant, and undertake the meritorious action of offering alms-food. Making even a small offering now will bring you great benefits in the future.”
But the lion didn’t give her even the slightest scrap. Not only that, he looked angrily at the poor weak woodpecker, and gathered himself as though he might be about to pounce on the Bodhisattva and make a meal of her. He said, “Enough woodpecker, you should just count yourself lucky that you are still alive. You were in my mouth not long ago, but in my mercy I chose not to eat you. Now fly away before I change my mind and add a feathery snack to my lunch. You are insulting me by asking for a portion of my hard-won meal. Are you tired of being alive, is that it? Are you keen to find out whether or not there’s an afterlife?
The Bodhisattva was very sad to see the lion behave in this way, and was also sad to be refused even a tiny morsel of food with such harsh words. She didn’t stay any longer, and flew straight up into the sky in order to look elsewhere for something to ease her hunger.
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Part four: The sprite’s provocation and the Bodhisattva’s response
Now at that time there lived in the forest a mischievous sprite, who had overheard the conversation between the woodpecker and the lion, and was outraged at the way the lion had treated the woodpecker. He was also curious to know just how deep the Bodhisattva’s kindness and equanimity were, and decided to put them to the test. He sprang up into the sky right next to the flying woodpecker and said to her, “O Great Being, most excellent of birds, why did you allow that scoundrel of a lion to get away with treating you like that, even after you had been so kind to him when you last met? It would be so, so easy for you to take revenge on him. How can you overlook his ungrateful behaviour towards you? It is true that he is very strong, but if you were to catch him unawares by suddenly attacking his face you could easily blind him. Then you would be able to help yourself to as much of his meal as you wanted, even stealing some of it from between his very teeth. Why put up with his shameful insolence?”
The Bodhisattva, however, wasn’t affected in the slightest by the provocation of the mischievous sprite. Even though she had been ill-treated by the lion she continued to have compassion for him, and had no thoughts of harming him. She replied to the sprite saying, “There is no use trying to talk me into taking revenge. That is something that is not done by someone like me.
“It would not be appropriate, because a Bodhisattva helps those in distress simply because it is the right thing to do, not because they are seeking a reward, and they do this whether the other person understands that or not. Because of this, there really is no basis for getting angry if the other person does not act kindly in return.
“If a person who has been helped is ungrateful and doesn’t offer help in return, then that will be to their disadvantage, because many people do actually expect something in return, and if they don’t receive it they are unlikely to help the ungrateful person a second time.
“The benefactor, on the other hand, receives reward enough in having the calm and peaceful mind that results from acting kindly and compassionately towards others. People may also think well of the benefactor. That is not guaranteed however, and it is certainly not the reason for acting kindly.
“Also, if the benefactor helps someone because it is the right thing to do, then it is a gift which is given with no strings attached. Because of this, there is no reason to regret it afterwards, however badly the other person then behaves. If, on the other hand, the help were given in order to get something in return, then it wouldn’t actually be a gift at all, it would just be a loan.
“If someone were to take revenge on someone they had helped, just because that person wasn’t grateful for the help, then they would completely lose any good reputation that they had gained in the eyes of others as a result of their initial kind act. Far more importantly, they would also lose their own peace of mind, and why would they want to do that?
“If someone who is helped doesn’t feel any gratitude as a result, then that is a real shame for them, but it isn’t a reason for attacking them. A much more appropriate response would be to act all the more kindly and compassionately towards them, for they are clearly in a state of significant suffering, and unable to see how they can help themselves find a way out of it. Such a one should be treated gently, with kindness and understanding, rather than with harshness and anger.”
The mischievous sprite was deeply moved by the woodpecker Bodhisattva’s thoughtful and compassionate response, and he resolved to act more kindly himself in the future. He praised the woodpecker’s behaviour, saying, “Although you’re not dressed in the robes of a monk, you are very clearly wearing the Clothes of Enlightenment. These don’t depend on us appearing in a particular form, but they embody the Buddha’s life of compassion and wisdom. It is not the clothing of a person that makes them a Bodhisattva, but the way that they live their life and behave towards others. To live our life for the benefit of all beings is to truly wear the Clothes of Enlightenment.”
Having said all this, the sprite then disappeared just as suddenly as he had arrived.
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Part five: Drawing conclusions
The story then sums up the different aspects of practice that have been illustrated in it.
When teaching what it means to live as a Buddha:
Even when provoked, a virtuous person doesn’t resort to doing harm, having trained themselves to refrain.
When teaching about refraining from causing harm:
When someone truly practices refraining from causing harm, they may sometimes be met with ill-will and anger, but the wise will always welcome them and cherish them.
When teaching about dwelling in stillness:
When a wise person acts compassionately and wholeheartedly in the world, whilst still dwelling in stillness, the benefit to beings is all the deeper.
When teaching the importance of continuing to deepen and broaden our practice:
When we truly ground ourselves in the life of Buddha then we never lose it, whatever state of existence we may find ourselves in, whether that is as a woodpecker, as a human, or as a Buddha.
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Sources:
The Story of the Woodpecker is told in:
Speyer, J.S. The Gâtakamâlâ. First Edition London, 1895. Third printing by Motilal Banarsidass Publishers PVT. Ltd, Delhi, 1990. Print. ISBN: 81-208-0707-3
It is also available at:
https://www.ancient-buddhist-texts.net/English-Texts/Garland-of-Birth-Stories/34-The-Story-of-the-Woodpecker.htm
There are many other retellings of the story available online and in print.