tons without even looking up. He hung around the cattle pen of the university looking again and again at his wrist-watch until the hands reached midnight — then he jumped up like a jack-in-a-box and rushed to the celebrations just in time to see everyone getting on their bikes to go home.
This was just one of many examples of how Khun Yay tested him to see if he really was earnest about his Dhamma studies. In spite of everything, he kept up his practice. Maybe it was because of something Khun Yay had said to him the first time they had had time to talk in earnest. Khun Yay had divulged that, "You’re the one the Great Abbot had me summon down to be born during the Second World War."
When he was visiting Wat Paknam at the weekend he would sit for meditation morning, noon and night. If visitors came, he would secrete himself in the temple cloisters and would return to Khun Yay kuti when they had gone home. He’d sit leaning his back against the ‘headless’ pillar. Most of Khun Yay’s students before him had been passed down to her from Khun Yay Thongsuk after her death. Although he wasn’t her first student, because of his earnest he soon overtook many who had come before him.
Khun Yay made a lot of time for this earnest student. Apart from teaching him the way to meditate until being able to attain the Dhammakāya for himself, she would take the trouble to answer any questions he had for her, even if they didn’t seem very important ones.
When the student first met Khun Yay, she still used to chew betel nut. However, when the student kept asking her about ‘why’ she chose to chew it