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One day, the nun in charge of the monastery’s daily necessities and stationery went through items that had been collecting dust in the storeroom. She carefully rearranged them in front of the Prayer Hall so those in need could help themselves.

A roll of stickers caught my attention as I was making my way out. “Fragile”, some warned the wary passerby in large bright fonts. Others had skulls printed right across. “Who on earth would want these?” I walked away having lost interest.

Little did I know, that very sticker appeared on my roommate’s desk a few days later. Scribbled underneath, were the words “Death will come.”

An old lamp, a piece of sticker no one wanted, and a few red words says it all.

Though simple and free of materialistic needs, one never loses her purpose in life here at the monastery by strictly adhering to the teachings. For a long while, I stood there looking at the sticker, a bold reminder to all who crosses its way. This, I realized right then and there, is the heart of a practitioner.