have been humbled merely by the sight of a neatly lined-up row of shoes left by a group going for their morning chanting.
Even later in life, her daily routine remained fixed. From four in the morning until six, she would meditate alone. As soon as it was light, she would be busily arranging things in her midst. At 06.30 a.m. her attendant, Khun Areephan would bring breakfast to her kuti. After breakfast, Khun Yay put on a white knitted woollen hat and scarf, warm socks and shoes and would go out on her inspection of the temple. An attendant would ride a tri-shaw to the temple’s small office to pick Khun Yay up. Areephan would help her onboard. The sunlight was not so intense in the morning. Khun Yay was first peddled towards the east side of the temple. Then she would continue to the back of the temple where it was shadier. The attendant who rode Khun Yay’s tri-shaw usually went at a moderate speed.
On her route, Khun Yay’s tri-shaw passed by the Tavaṭimsa building and headed toward the concrete bridge and the bell tower and passed another bridge before reaching the Pterocarpus Rise. The garden was shady and dense with Pterocarpus trees. Khun Yay always found many weeds in the area. She would ask the attendant to stop the tri-shaw so she could pull up weeds. As she became older, Khun Yay could not pull weeds herself. She simply watched her attendant working on the weeds from the seat of the tri-shaw. Her diligence unaffected by her age, even dressed in all her warm clothes, Khun Yay still couldn’t resist pausing to do weeding or to dig up a sapling for replanting. She’d come asking for a
1. presently removed 2. nern pradoo