​Once upon a time a monk and a yak lived together in the Himalayan mountains.
​The monk had raised the yak from the time it was a little calf, and they were the best of friends.

​During the day the monk and the yak worked the fields together.

​And come the evening, the monk would meditate, while the yak ate its meal outside.​

​In summertime, they would collect firewood together

​and during the winter they would sit by the fireside to warm themselves.

One winter the monk fell very ill, and since all his rituals and prayers didn’t seem to help​

​​and the nearest village was many days away on foot…​

​​…the monk decided to send the yak with a letter seeking help.

​The monk slept.
He dreamed of a long mountain journey, of snow and of a fireside.

​When the monk opened his eyes, he was surprised to see many monk friends and healers surrounding him and nursing him back to health.

“How did you reach my house?” asked the monk, “Did you hear my prayers?”

“We are not at your house,” the monks replied,

​“you are in our village. The yak carried you all the way here.”

​​When the monk heard these words, tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” asked the monks.​

​“Because your rituals and prayers for me and the medicine you gave me obviously helped so much,” he replied,

​“yet I now realize that help was…

…by my side all the time!”

​And so, a celebration was held in honor of the brave yak.

​When spring came, the monk and the yak bade their friends farewell

​and set out on their journey back home.​

​The End