The Legend of the White Chrysanthemum

Once upon a time, there was a poor family consisting of a mother and her son who depended on each other and lived peacefully in a small house. The mother worked hard every day to raise her son. The son was also filial, obedient to his mother and studied hard.

One day, the mother suddenly fell seriously ill. Although the son loved his mother very much and sought treatment from many good doctors in the area, he could not cure her. He was very sad and prayed for his mother every day. Feeling sorry for his mother, the son decided to find a doctor from another place to cure her. The son traveled far and wide, through many villages, mountains and rivers, hungry and in rags, but he was not discouraged.

One day, when passing by a temple, I asked the abbot to let me go in and burn incense to pray for my mother. My prayer made the heavens shed tears and the earth bow. That prayer reached the ears of the compassionate Buddha, who felt compassion for my filial piety and transformed himself into a monk. The monk passed by the temple and gave me a white flower and said:

– This flower is a symbol of life, a flower that contains hope, a dream of mankind, a panacea to cure your mother’s illness, please bring it home and take care of it. But remember, every year a petal will fall off and the number of petals on the flower is the number of years your mother can live.

Then the monk disappeared.

I received the flower, thanked Buddha, and was very happy. But when I counted the petals, I suddenly felt sad again when I realized that the flower only had five petals, which meant that my mother would only live with me for five more years.

Feeling so sorry for my mother, I thought of a way. I immediately tore the petals into many small petals, so many that I could no longer count how many petals the flower had. Thanks to that, my mother recovered from her illness and lived a long life with her filial son.

That white flower with countless small petals has become a symbol of life, a dream of eternity, a child’s filial piety towards his mother, and a child’s desire to cure all his mother’s illnesses. Today, that flower is called the white chrysanthemum.