The beggar knelt. “Master, a pig does not know it is called a pig. But a man who calls another buta no gotoki — he forgets that even pigs have the Buddha-nature. Mud is not a curse. It is where lotus roots grow.”
The beggar only smiled.
One autumn, a wandering beggar came to the temple gates. His clothes were rags, his face weathered, but his eyes were calm as still water. The disciples, eager to prove their worth, mocked him. “Even pigs know better than to beg here,” one sneered. buta no gotoki
From that day, he never again called any living thing buta no gotoki — except himself, with a smile, when pride whispered in his ear. The beggar knelt