Once upon a time, there was a king called Rinda, who was the master of the Jambudvīpa. It is said that the king’s food was the neighing of a white horse. Whenever the king heard the neighing of a white horse, he was rejuvenated, regaining his complexion, becoming refreshed in mind, and revitalized in power. Moreover, it enabled him to govern the country with justice. For these reasons, many white horses were raised in his country. He was like a king called Weiwang, who gathered many cranes, or the Emperor Te-tsung, who loved lightning bugs. As whenever the swans sang, the white horses neighed, many swans were brought to this country. One day, the swans all disappeared, and the white horses all became silent. As a result, the great king missed his meals; and it appeared that he would pass away at any moment just as flowers in full bloom wither from frost or the full moon is lost when covered by clouds. Everyone in the country, beginning with the queen, crown prince, and ministers, didn’t know what to do; they were grief-stricken and shed tears just like children who lost their mother.

There were many non-Buddhists in this country, just as today in Japan there are many followers of Zen, Pure Land, Shingon, and Ritsu Buddhism. However, there were also the Buddha’s disciples, just as today in Japan there are people of the Lotus (Nichiren) Sect. Buddhists and non-Buddhists did not get along with each other as though they were fire and water or Mongolia and Yüeh, one in the north and the other in the south. Then the great king issued an imperial edict: “If a non-Buddhist monk can make the white horse neigh, I will abandon Buddhism and put sole faith in him, who would be like Indra revered by all gods. If a disciple of the Buddha can make the horse neigh, I shall behead all non-Buddhist monks and deprive them of their residences, which will all be given to the Buddha’s disciples.” Both non-Buddhist monks and the Buddha’s disciples were startled by the edict, which they greatly deplored.

Unable to ignore the imperial order, non-Buddhist monks tried praying first for seven days. No swans, however, came back, nor did the white horse neigh. Next, it was the turn for a disciple of the Buddha. An unknown monk named Aśvaghoṣa prayed for the next seven days to the Lotus Sūtra, which Buddhas worshipped as the Most Revered One. Then a swan came flying over the altar. When it cried once cheerfully, the white horse loudly neighed once. When the king heard it, he got up from his sick bed, while the queen and many others all paid homage to Aśvaghoṣa. One, two, three . . . 10 and 100 swans came back flying, filling the entire land. As a result, hundreds and thousands of white horses neighed without interruption; and the king’s countenance was rejuvenated by as much as thirty years. His mind became as bright as the sun, and he ruled his country with justice. A rain of nectar fell from heaven with all the people swayed by the great king, and his reign continued peacefully for ages to come.

The same can be said of the Buddhas. The Buddha of Many Treasures enters Nirvana where the Lotus Sūtra is not spread, and He appears where the sūtra is spread. So do Śākyamuni Buddha and all the Buddhas in the entire universe. The Lotus Sūtra is so marvelous. How can Goddess Amaterasu, Great Bodhisattva Hachiman, and Great Bodhisattva Sengen of Fuji abandon those who believe in the sūtra? It is reliable indeed.

Ueno-dono Haha-ama Gozen Gohenji, A Response to My Lady the Nun, Mother of Lord Ueno, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Faith and Practice, Volume 4, Page 181-182