Carolyn Marsden says that THE BUDDHA'S DIAMONDS was inspired by a talk given by Thây Phâp Niêm to the children of Deer Park Monastery.
Thây Phâp Niêm's childhood experiences form the basis of THE BUDDHA'S DIAMONDS. A year after the storm depicted in the story, he escaped postwar Vietnam and became a Buddhist monk. All of his royalties will be donated to the Touching and Helping Programs in Vietnam.
She held out two pieces of bamboo and some pink paper, a bit of
string, and a bottle of glue. "You brought everything," he said. "I
remembered what you needed." Tinh stood on tiptoe and looked toward
the soccer field. If there was a soccer game oing, he certainly
didn't want to spend time with his sister. But it was probably too
late to join the game. Plus his cousins would tease him for staying
in the temple. Tinh sat down on a low wall and fastened Lan's
bamboo sticks into the shape of a cross. When the sticks were
firmly tied, he held the skeleton of the kite to the sky, imagining
it floating in the soft blue. Lan wiggled in anticipation. As Tinh
lowered the bamboo to his lap and stretched the pink paper over the
cross, he thought of how the next day his sister would run along
the beach, flying this kite. Last summer, Tinh had also flown
kites. But
when he'd turned ten at Lunar New Year, he'd left that childhood
behind. Now, during the long days of summer vacation, it was his
job to help Ba with the fishing. "Hold here," he said to Lan. Lan
put her small finger on the paper while Tinh glued. "You need more
string for a tail," he said when the paper was in place. "And some
bits of cloth to tie on to the string." Just then, Tinh heard the
shouts of Trang Ton, Dong, and Anh and then someone shushing them.
Then, Tinh heard another sound-like a giant mosquito. He stood up
to look. Zooming ahead of the four boys came a miniature red car.
Tinh stepped back. The car drove itself. It ran up the dusty path
and across the flagstones of the courtyard as if by magic. The
little kids stopped their war games to watch. Adults leaned out the
temple doors, fingers to their lips. "Want to try, Tinh?" Trang Ton
held out a small gray box. "Here, you just push this button to go
forward, this one to go back. These"-he touched two more
buttons-make the car go left and right." Tinh reached for the
remote control. It was heavier than it looked. He tapped the button
on the left, and the car drove toward a palm tree. He maneuvered
the car around the base of the tree. He drove it to the edge of the
stone steps, then backed it up. He loved the feeling of power in
his hands. "Now it's my turn," said Phu, one of Trang Ton's younger
cousins. Tinh handed over the box. This car was a diamond the monk
didn't know about. No one in the village could afford a remote
controlled car. Trang Ton had an uncle who'd escaped by boat to
America. That uncle worked in an office and sent back money and
gifts like the soccer ball and the car. The uncle's generosity
enabled Trang Ton's family to live in a brick house instead of a
hut made of bamboo. The bell sounded three times, and Phu held his
finger over the remote control, poised for action. All eyes were on
the red car, now half submerged in a pile of faded bougainvillea
flowers. The vibrations stopped, and Phu backed the car up. The
adults emerged from the temple, talking and laughing among
themselves. As the nuns spread a feast of fruit on a long table set
up in the courtyard, Tinh turned his attention from Trang Ton's red
car. He loaded his arms with vanilla mangoes, finger bananas, a
stick of sugarcane, and a bunch of longan. He plucked a round
longan fruit from the stem and sunk his teeth into the hard skin.
The fruit burst open, white and sweet. From the Hardcover edition.
Gr 4-7-This graceful narrative is based in part on Niem's childhood in Vietnam. Buddhist concepts are gently introduced and explained in the context of the story, but, more importantly, they are reflected in the tone and style. Tinh may be more spiritual than many of the youngsters in his village, but, at 10, he is still a child. He wants to play with his friends and he covets his cousin's fancy toys. At the same time, he has started to take on many adult responsibilities and is proud to work with his Ba catching fish to feed and support his family. When a storm hits his village, his father entrusts Tinh to secure their boat, but the boy panics and fails to do so. In reality, there was little that could have been done under the circumstances, but he clings to the hope that he can salvage it and win back his father's confidence. The sense of duty that he feels leads him to rethink his actions and his priorities. Cultural references are beautifully integrated into this lovely coming-of-age story.-Ernie Bond, Salisbury University, MD Copyright 2008 Reed Business Information.
She held out two pieces of bamboo and some pink paper, a bit of string, and a bottle of glue.
"You brought everything," he said. "I remembered what you
needed." Tinh stood on tiptoe and looked toward the soccer field.
If there was a soccer game oing, he certainly didn't want to spend
time with his sister. But it was probably too late to join the
game. Plus his cousins would tease him for staying in the temple.
Tinh sat down on a low wall and fastened Lan's bamboo sticks into
the shape of a cross. When the sticks were firmly tied, he held the
skeleton of the kite to the sky, imagining it floating in the soft
blue. Lan wiggled in anticipation. As Tinh lowered the bamboo to
his lap and stretched the pink paper over the cross, he thought of
how the next day his sister would run along the beach, flying this
kite. Last summer, Tinh had also flown kites. But
when he'd turned ten at Lunar New Year, he'd left that childhood
behind. Now, during the long days of summer vacation, it was his
job to help Ba with the fishing. "Hold here," he said to Lan. Lan
put her small finger on the paper while Tinh glued. "You need more
string for a tail," he said when the paper was in place. "And some
bits of cloth to tie on to the string." Just then, Tinh heard the
shouts of Trang Ton, Dong, and Anh and then someone shushing them.
Then, Tinh heard another sound-like a giant mosquito. He stood up
to look. Zooming ahead of the four boys came a miniature red car.
Tinh stepped back. The car drove itself. It ran up the dusty path
and across the flagstones of the courtyard as if by magic. The
little kids stopped their war games to watch. Adults leaned out the
temple doors, fingers to their lips. "Want to try, Tinh?" Trang Ton
held out a small gray box. "Here, you just push this button to go
forward, this one to go back. These"-he touched two more
buttons-make the car go left and right." Tinh reached for the
remote control. It was heavier than it looked. He tapped the button
on the left, and the car drove toward a palm tree. He maneuvered
the car around the base of the tree. He drove it to the edge of the
stone steps, then backed it up. He loved the feeling of power in
his hands. "Now it's my turn," said Phu, one of Trang Ton's younger
cousins. Tinh handed over the box. This car was a diamond the monk
didn't know about. No one in the village could afford a remote
controlled car. Trang Ton had an uncle who'd escaped by boat to
America. That uncle worked in an office and sent back money and
gifts like the soccer ball and the car. The uncle's generosity
enabled Trang Ton's family to live in a brick house instead of a
hut made of bamboo. The bell sounded three times, and Phu held his
finger over the remote control, poised for action. All eyes were on
the red car, now half submerged in a pile of faded bougainvillea
flowers. The vibrations stopped, and Phu backed the car up. The
adults emerged from the temple, talking and laughing among
themselves. As the nuns spread a feast of fruit on a long table set
up in the courtyard, Tinh turned his attention from Trang Ton's red
car. He loaded his arms with vanilla mangoes, finger bananas, a
stick of sugarcane, and a bunch of longan. He plucked a round
longan fruit from the stem and sunk his teeth into the hard skin.
The fruit burst open, white and sweet. From the Hardcover
edition.
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