A quiet greeting at the entrance of Aranya Sangharama —drawn with gentle hands
Rituals of connection: Over the past few months, since a resident community took root at Aranya Sangharama, one of the most heartwarming and quietly delightful features has been the steady stream of children. Youngsters from the nearby village of Rampur Gainda—mostly between the ages of 4 and 12—began visiting during their school break. What started as casual drop-ins slowly turned into gentle rituals of connection.
They came in the evenings, around five o’clock—seven to ten children at a time—bringing with them the energy of the outside world, yet settling quickly into the calm of the monastery grounds. The monks welcomed them with open hearts and simple joys: drawing books, crayons, and the occasional sweet treat. It didn’t take much. Just a few colors, a few smiles—and soon, the courtyard brimmed with quiet concentration and soft laughter.
Tiny steps in mindfulness
Instilling awareness: It wasn’t only play. These visits became invitations into something deeper, though never imposed. Ajahn Gunakaro introduced them to small, playful practices in body awareness: mindful walking, sitting still, gently placing their hands on their heads. Little by little, the children began to discover stillness—not as something rigid, but as something they could enjoy.
Stories of the Buddha were shared through slides on a laptop—simple, vivid tales that held their attention and gently stirred their curiosity. Interwoven through these stories were everyday values: keeping the environment clean, respecting elders, caring for one’s body, speaking kindly.
Blossoming without a plan: Some children began helping around the monastery—watering plants, brushing off dry leaves. These weren’t chores, but small acts of offering. No one asked them to do it. They simply saw and responded.
These visits weren’t part of any program or plan—only a natural unfolding, like wildflowers along a forest path. In their own quiet way, they became part of the monastery’s rhythm. A reminder that Dhamma can blossom without structure. That teaching doesn’t always need a classroom. And sometimes, the deepest connections arise when nothing is asked—only presence, only hearts quietly meeting.
Children’s artwork
Watering the plants
Getting into action
Settling into meditation
The rock of my size
Chores and connections