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The following article was published in our article directory on May 15, 2013.
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Article Category: Short Stories
Author Name: Sean Daniel
Buddhist Statue for Sale: Recollections of My Aunt
I remember the first time I saw a statue of Buddha. It was in a remote part of Canada, in my aunt's rickety old farmhouse. It stood inside a banged-up old cabinet with glass doors that had fabulous gold handles. The Buddha himself, I could see only through the glass as I was not, under strict orders from my aunt, to open the glass door. This unassuming cabinet held all of her worldly treasures.
My aunt's Buddhist statue was fat and golden. He was laughing; I imagined his big belly jiggling. I had no idea who he was. My aunt told me that her cousin brought him to her from a faraway place called India. I wanted to go there. When she died, a few years after she told me this, I asked her brother about the Buddha but was told it had been sent to a junk sale. My heart sunk.
I did go to India eventually. I saw a sign that said, "Buddhist Statue for Sale" and I went into a very small shop. There were no laughing Buddhas. The shopkeeper told me that my aunt's statue was probably not of Buddha at all, but of a fellow called "Budai" which means "cloth sack". I was shocked. Not a Buddha after all.
It was Gautama Buddha who was behind all the teachings we read about in the West. I bought his statue; he was thin, beautiful, and serene. I admired him. I wanted a statue of Budai too. It weighed heavily on my mind. I don't know why.
I've never passed a "Buddhist Statues for Sale" sign in any of my travels, be they to faraway Asia or a neighborhood garage sale. When I went to Japan, I found Buddha statues for sale in a secondhand shop in Susono. I bought one that was made out of brass and was turning green; a solemn Buddha - only the head - now greets me when I enter my home. He sits on a small table, passing no judgement.
My heart started racing a few weeks ago when I read this in the local newspaper, "Estate sale. Antiques, Crockery, Rugs, Silverware, and Buddha statues for sale." I slowly put down the newspaper and reached for my tea. I knew, you see, at that moment, that not only would I find a Buddha statue or two for sale but that I would finally find my Buddha. I circled the add in red ink, surrounding only "Buddha statues for sale" and wrote the date of the estate sale on my kitchen calendar.
The day came, July 8, 1992, and I set out in my old Volkswagen to 34 Falmouth Street. The house was large and run down. Bargain hunters were climbing the concrete stairs, trying but failing to look nonchalant. A colorful sign, probably sketched out by a child, said, "Buddha Statues for Sale" and had an arrow pointing up. I climbed the stairs and walked into a tiny bedroom; the hardwood floors creaking as I went. There was Buddha. There was my laughing Buddha who wasn't.
I felt a sense of glee, like I had checked off an item on my life's to-do list that I thought I never would. All of those times that I saw the words "Buddha Statues for Sale" and thought to myself, I hope that there is a Buddha statue thrown in there. I picked up my fat, golden Buddha and paid $5 for him.
I felt like I was taking my aunt home with me. You know, I really miss her. I wasn't always aware of how much.
Keywords: buddha statues for sale, buddha statues, buddhist statues, buddhist blog, buddha blog
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