Sometimes the lessons in the temple were like that in a school. At those times, the child monks followed the morning bells and evening drums and gathered together in the great hall, where they chanted the sutras under the tutelage of the lead sutra teacher and studied the religious rituals. At the same time, they also studied their people's cultural heritage. There were times when the temple was like a training camp, where the child monks studied dance, music, sculpture, painting and even the collecting of herbs and the production of Tibetan medicine. What made Little Tulku Jianggong admire his own teacher so much was the fact that there was not a single canon or teaching that Tulku Dapu could not master. Buddhist sculptures, Vajrayana spirit dance, the production of mandala[23], secret alchemic techniques, the collection of the myriad herbs: the Buddha had only to go spend some time learning it and he would then have the most remarkable spiritual skills and talents, as if the gods were moving through him.
There was a type of knowledge that could not be obtained by the study of books. One day, Little Tulku Jianggong took his own attendant Lama Duoji and went to read scriptures and perform rituals for a shepherd family. The family lived in poverty and a male member of the household had just died. Tulku Dapu had Little Jianggong visit them, taking with him some highland barley and a leg of mutton. At the time, Little Jianggong muttered, "Master, we're going to help them read the scriptures, in the past it's always been them making offerings to us, ah!"
Tulku Dapu said in a kindly voice, "No matter whether it is the dana of the Buddha's teachings, the dana of finance or the dana of fearless virtue, performing dana on behalf of the poor is far more meritorious than making offerings to the Buddha and the bodhisattvas. Reading 100,000 sutras is not as good as performing one good deed, because the Buddha does not need your offerings. What the Buddha cares for is the ordinary people. If you give your money and possessions for the care of the most pitiful of the poor, then the Buddha will be even happier."
Little Tulku Jianggong rode his horse in the front and Duoji followed behind him carrying the items. They travelled the road in this way. At the edge of a single plank bridge over a stream, Little Jianggong discovered a sheepskin pocket and he had Lama Duoji go and collect it. He was surprised to find that there were many silver coins in the pouch.
"Buddha, what a careless person! They actually threw away this money like a hot coal." said Duoji in surprise.
Little Tulku Jianggong dismounted his horse and said, "We'll wait here for a bit and wait for its owner as if we are watching over somebody else's lost lambs."
"But, Little Tulku Jianggong, the family are still waiting for us to read the sutras for them."
Little Tulku Jianggong hesitated and then took the sheepskin bag with him. If somebody came to look for the money, would they not worry? But to leave the money here and not care for it anymore wasn't the way. "How about this way? We'll bring the money with us now, and after we return from reading the scriptures we'll look for the person who has lost the money."
Duoji placed the sheepskin bag in the pocket in which he carried the highland barley and leg of lamb, and the two people continued on their way.
When they reached the main house of the funeral, people came out and kneeled on the ground as if they were greeting the gods. Little Tulku Jianggong was no longer scared of the dead and he had even become adept at performing these types of ceremonies. He sat cross-legged at the corpse's side and chanted intently to help the soul find peace, occasionally using his hand to tap on the corpse's forehead to awaken the soul, like he was rousing a sleeping person. He had a maturity and even a familiarity with the heart of scripture disproportionate to his young age. This stirred up awe in the hearts of those present—the Tulku isn't the same as us commoners, ah!
By the time they finished with the ceremonies, it was almost evening. Little Tulku Jianggong needed to rush back to the temple, and he had Lama Duoji leave the leg of mutton and highland barley that he had received from Tulku Dapu to give to the host of the funeral. Duoji did not think as he did this and simply handed over the bag. The whole family were full of thanks, and their gratitude was immeasurable.
When they returned again to the side of the single wooden bridge over the stream, Little Tulku Jianggong suddenly became aware of what had happened and said, "Aiya, Duoji, you gave that sheepskin bag full of silver coins to the family!"
Duoji almost fell off the bridge and into the water. He fiercely slapped his own head, "Buddha, ah, Buddha! But it wasn't because we wanted to give it to them. Tulku Jianggong, please hit me."
Little Tulku Jianggong really wanted to give him a thrashing with a whip. What a muddle-headed fellow! Now how could he explain this to the original owner of the coins? Over a dozen silver coins were enough to buy a flock of sheep.
"Tulku Jianggong, I'll go and get the sheepskin purse back." Duoji said, climbing on the back of his horse.
"If everybody drinks the mutton soup that we give as charity, how could you get it back from inside their stomachs?"
"Then … then what should we do?"
"Maybe this is the will of the gods." Little Tulku Jianggong turned his head and looked at the road behind him, "Did you not see how poor that family was? They were so poor that if you grabbed at their head you'd have a handful of messy hair, if you did the same to their body, you'd only grasp one layer of Tibetan wool. When I was tending the sheep as a child, I was also much poorer than them. How about this? Afterwards if a person comes before us offering money to be used on incense, we will first secretly take a portion and save it. If we hear that somebody has lost this money, we will then return it to them." After he finished speaking, he then added a specific explanation, "Do not tell Tulku Dapu, ah."
