The Monk's Silent Blessing
Picture Credit to the Original Owner
It started as a typical Friday night for Alex, Mei, and Jason. The three high school friends had always been curious about the legends surrounding Po Lin Monastery on Lantau Island. Growing up in Hong Kong, they'd heard whispers of a mysterious monk who appeared at the monastery's entrance during quiet nights—offering silent blessings before vanishing into thin air. Most dismissed it as folklore, but tonight, their curiosity got the better of them.
Earlier that evening, they had finished their homework early and met at Mei’s house, a small apartment overlooking the city. As they sat around, scrolling through stories and videos about haunted Hong Kong sites, Jason suddenly pointed at a news article titled: "Po Lin Monastery's Ghostly Monk Spotted Again."
"Have you guys ever actually seen him?" Jason asked, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"No way," Mei replied, nervously twirling a bracelet on her wrist. "I’ve heard about him, but I thought it was just a story to scare tourists."
Alex, always the thrill-seeker, grinned. "Come on, it's just a legend. But maybe tonight’s the night we find out for ourselves."
They decided to go. Packing a flashlight and some snacks, they headed out, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The drive to Lantau Island was quiet, filled with whispered speculation.
When they arrived at the foothills, the moon cast a silvery glow over the winding path leading up to the monastery. As they hiked closer, the faint scent of incense drifted on the breeze, adding to the eerie silence.
The monastery loomed in the darkness, its ancient structure shadowed against the night sky. The entrance was deserted, save for the faint flicker of a distant lantern. The trio hesitated but pressed on, their footsteps echoing softly on the stone steps.
Suddenly, at the edge of their vision, they saw him—a tall, cloaked figure standing motionless near the entrance. The figure's robes fluttered gently in the breeze, and his face was hidden beneath a hood.
"Is that him?" Mei whispered, voice trembling.
Without a word, the monk turned slowly, his head tilting slightly as if scrutinizing them. Then, he raised a hand in a slow, deliberate gesture—offering a silent blessing. The air around them seemed to thicken with a strange warmth, as if touched by a divine presence.
But then, something unexpected happened. The monk’s figure flickered—his form wavering as if caught between worlds—and suddenly, he disappeared. In that moment, the air grew colder, and a sense of unease crept in.
Realizing they had been too close and perhaps disturbed something sacred, the teens froze. But as they turned to leave, Mei suddenly remembered something—the story they’d read about the monk’s disappearance being linked to disrespect or fear.
"Guys," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "maybe we shouldn't run away so quickly. Perhaps what we really need to do is show a bit of respect. If he is truly a spirit, then rushing off in fear might only upset him even more than we realize."
They hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded in reluctant agreement, carefully backing away from the entrance while murmuring quiet apologies deep within their minds. As they took each step, a gentle breeze seemed to pass through the air, carrying with it a faint, serene, and peaceful aura that subtly eased the tension around them. When they finally reached the comforting safety of their car, they glanced back once more at the monastery, their hearts still pounding rapidly but their minds feeling slightly calmer and more at ease.
The experience taught them an important lesson: Respect for the unknown and humility are powerful. Sometimes, our fear or curiosity can lead us into situations we don't understand, but approaching with reverence can bring peace.
From that night on, they never dismissed legends as mere stories. Instead, they learned that some mysteries are best approached with respect—and that understanding and humility can transform fear into wisdom.
