At sunrise, they saw with astonishment what a large crowd of believers
and curious people had spent the night here. On all paths of the
marvellous grove, monks walked in yellow robes, under the trees they
sat here and there, in deep contemplation--or in a conversation about
spiritual matters, the shady gardens looked like a city, full of people,
bustling like bees. The majority of the monks went out with their
alms-dish, to collect food in town for their lunch, the only meal of the
day. The Buddha himself, the enlightened one, was also in the habit of
taking this walk to beg in the morning.
Siddhartha saw him, and he instantly recognised him, as if a god had
pointed him out to him. He saw him, a simple man in a yellow robe,
bearing the alms-dish in his hand, walking silently.
"Look here!" Siddhartha said quietly to Govinda. "This one is the
Buddha."
Attentively, Govinda looked at the monk in the yellow robe, who seemed
to be in no way different from the hundreds of other monks. And soon,
Govinda also realized: This is the one. And they followed him and
observed him.
The Buddha went on his way, modestly and deep in his thoughts, his
calm face was neither happy nor sad, it seemed to smile quietly and
inwardly. With a hidden smile, quiet, calm, somewhat resembling a
healthy child, the Buddha walked, wore the robe and placed his feet
just as all of his monks did, according to a precise rule.
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