A young monk was walking from one village to another. On the path he saw a thorn lying point-up. "Someone barefoot will step on this," he thought. Even though the path was long and he was tired, he stopped, picked up the thorn, and buried it deep beneath a stone. That evening he reached a village where he had no place to stay. He sat under a tree, hungry. An old farmer came by and looked at him for a long moment. "This morning my grandson ran on that very path with bare feet," the farmer said. "Someone removed a thorn that would have hurt him badly. I do not know who, but tonight I have a warm meal and a bed for any traveller — in case it was you." The young monk smiled and ate his first meal of the day.