The Painting of Happiness

Once there was a man who, through hard work, had built a good life for himself. With some savings set aside, he visited the local Zen master and said: “Dear master, here is some money. Please paint me a picture of happiness, so I can hang it in my home.”

The next day, the man returned. The Zen master presented him with the painting, and on it was written:

“Father dead, son dead, grandson dead.”


Furious, the man shouted: “How can you possibly call this a painting of happiness?!”

The Zen master replied calmly: “This is the greatest happiness a person can experience  that life follows its natural order. When that order is disrupted, happiness is no longer strong enough to overcome grief.”

Food for Thought

You may count yourself lucky when life follows its natural order: first the father passes, then the son, and finally the grandson. When that order is broken, the grief can be unbearable. Many people experience the opposite a father burying his child, a grandfather losing his grandson.
That kind of pain is deep, because it goes against the rhythm of life as it should be. And that is why this so-called “painting of happiness” speaks a quiet truth.
Not to ignore sorrow, but to remind us how precious it is when life flows in the right order. To see what often goes unnoticed and to be grateful for what is, while we have it.