瘟疫中的千金良方

真相网2020.2.5】瘟疫中是否存在千金良方呢?这里有个传说,或许对您有启发灵感的作用。

故事说的是,一位御厨告老还乡后,富贵在身,名望在上。终日闲来无事,闲情难耐,于是雇了一伙机灵能干的人,开了个酒馆。因为都是乡里乡亲的,酒馆渐渐成了大家消遣叙旧的地方。有事无事到酒馆坐坐,请客会友,热闹非常。

后来小镇隶属的县府一带,闹了很大的瘟疫,距京城也只有百里之遥。朝廷特派医组专员下来医治,但很长时间也找不出病源,用了很多药都不对症。

疫情越闹越大,眼看百姓一个个接连死去,人人都心惊胆战,恐慌不已。即使再富裕的人,有钱也买不到药,因为根本不知道什么药可以治。

人们看着刚才还好好的人,一回头就已倒地身亡;昔日繁华热闹的街面,早已冷冷清清;那些无家可归的人,又身负沉疴,没走几步便断绝了性命,横倒七歪的躯体陈列在大街上。惊恐麻木间,大家皆叹人生无常,如幻如梦。这也难坏了宫廷上下各级官员,吓坏了宫廷内外达官显贵。荣华富贵,功名利禄,霎时一文不值,能保命才是关键。

老御厨看到这情景,早早关了酒馆,断绝与外界联系,整日躲进豪宅。尽管宅子被他死死的封着,但病魔还是隔着铜墙铁壁伸向了御厨,他开始体力不支,时常抽搐,头晕目眩,便血呕吐。

御厨觉得自己时日不多,登上自家高楼,看着城区内外,远近民舍。看着看着,陡然悲情丛生,怜悯万分。垂泪叹息着:唉,功名何在呀?想我一代御厨,名满天下,却也难抵疫情。福祸旦夕,谁人可保?

他想了想:反正自己也是快要死的人了,守些金银和满仓衣物食粮又有何用?还不如舍给那些孤苦贫家,让他们吃饱饱的,好好的穿上遮体的衣服,也不枉人世一场,让不幸染病的他们可以体面的去见祖先。还是都舍了吧。

人能动真念时,真是太珍贵了。

这样想着,御厨对疫情的恐惧和胆怯消失了。一股浩然正气充满内心,感觉身体也有了气力。随即他做了决定:敞开酒馆大门,吩咐那些胆大的人,每天熬粥煮汤施舍穷人,又吩咐佣人,把储备的衣物取出,送给那些衣不遮体的人。对于那些寒湿露骨的尸体,也派人整理好给予安葬。

很多富甲人家,看御厨这样一做,也纷纷效仿。反正都是一死,还不如死的有价值,有意义一些。大家对疫情的怕逐渐消失了。冷清的街面,也逐渐变得有生气了。

后来,大街小巷充满了人情味儿,满是关注,满是安抚,满城尽是温文细语,打斗的没有了,闹霸的绝迹了,连娼妓都自重了。一个月后,御厨惊奇的发现,他的身体渐渐康复了,气色回复了先前的红润。

一天,御厨在睡梦中,看到有道人骑着仙鹤向他飞来,飞到他身边时,唱偈到:
“大德善化千金方,
济世岂用草药汤?
天外玄功金丹做,
观汝德至救疟殃。
快接仙丹吧!”

梦中,御厨双手一接,便猛然醒来。豁然看到,手中真有一盒仙丹,御厨不禁欢喜万分,对着道人飞来的方向,一拜再拜。第二天,御厨按照丹盒内的帖方,把部分丹药在几口大锅中化开,一一送给方圆内外的病人,效果真是神奇,病人瞬间便都康复了。

御厨又亲自把丹药送到京城皇宫。肆虐了几个月的疫情,在御厨的德行善化中彻底解决了。皇上闻之仙丹的来历后,沐浴更衣,独处静室,忏悔思过,随后聚精会神,带着虔诚和敬意写下了几个大字:

“千金良方——德”。

English Version: http://en.minghui.org/html/articles/2020/2/4/183091.html
Is There a Golden, “Sure-Fire” Cure for an Epidemic? 

Is there a “golden” cure in an epidemic? Here is a story that might shed some light.

As the story goes, an imperial chef retired and went back to his hometown. Wealthy and famous, he eventually got bored, having nothing to do. So he hired a few clever people and opened a tavern, which grew very popular, and the locals enjoyed spending time there with guests and friends. 

A terrible plague later broke out in the county. The imperial court sent a special medical team to treat those who had become ill, but they could not find the source of the contagion and none of the drugs they used did anything to help. 

The situation became worse and worse, and people were perishing right and left. Everyone was terrified. However wealthy one might be, no medicine or form of treatment was known to cure the plague. 

A man might seem all right one minute and then drop dead the next. The once-bustling streets became deserted. Those who were homeless, already miserable, fell down and died, their bodies left lying in the streets. Panic-stricken, people realized just how unpredictable life was.

Court officials felt utterly helpless, and high-ranking officials and dignitaries were scared to death. Their wealth, merit, and fame were suddenly worthless. The only thing they had on their minds was how to survive.

The imperial chef’s tavern had long been closed, and he had cut off any communication with the outside world, holed up in his luxurious residence all day long. But the plague found him anyway. He started to feel weak and he often writhed in pain. He felt dizzy and started vomiting blood. He also had blood in his stool.

Sensing that his days were numbered, the old chef climbed up to the high point of his residence and looked around at the surrounding area, at the homes here and there. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and tears ran down his face: “What use is fame? I have been a well-known imperial chef and yet I'm powerless to resist this disease. Misfortune can befall us at any time. No one can escape.”

He then thought: “Since I'm already dying, what's the use of keeping all this wealth? I might as well give it to the poor so that they can have enough to eat and decent clothes to wear.”

With that kind thought foremost in his mind, he was no longer frightened. Instead, he felt his heart fill with positive energy, and strength return to his limbs. 

He opened the gate to the tavern and asked those who were brave enough to cook porridge for the poor every day. He told his servants to give clothing to those who were dressed in rags. He also sent people to bury the cadavers out in the streets. 

Seeing what he was doing, many other wealthy people followed suit, thinking, “If I'm going to die, I might as well do something good and meaningful.” Gradually, people's fear of the plague vanished, and the deserted streets returned to life. 

Everyone in town was filled with loving-kindness. People were polite to each other and there was no more fighting or bullying. 

A month later, the old chef suddenly realized that he had recovered, and his face had taken on a healthy glow. 

One night, he dreamed that a Taoist master was flying toward him on the back of a crane. When he reached the chef, the Toaist whispered in his ear, “Your mighty virtue has earned you the golden cure. Why bother with herbal medicines? The miraculous gong has created golden elixirs to cure the plague. I have seen your virtue. Come and get the elixirs!”

The chef stretched out his hands to catch the box in his dream and woke up with a start. He saw he was indeed holding a box of elixirs. Elated and grateful, he kowtowed in the direction where the Taoist master had appeared.

The next day, the chef dissolved some of the elixirs in several big woks according to the instructions on the box and distributed the potion to patients near and far. They all recovered right after taking the potion.

The chef then took the remaining elixirs to the imperial palace in the capital city. The plague, which had been wreaking havoc for months, came to an end. 

When the emperor heard about what had happened, he took a bath, changed into clean clothes, sat in a quiet room alone, and reflected upon his wrongdoings. Later, with sincerity and respect, he wrote, in large characters: “Golden Cure – Virtue.”

转载自明慧网

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