Walking with Monks in Virginia

by Roy White
Vice Chair, NCDC
February 19, 2026

Two weeks ago, I was asked to help with the support of the Peace Monks as they were near completing their 2,300 mile walk from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, DC. I first went to Dinwiddie County, a rural Virginia county South of Petersburg. The monks were walking North on US Route 1. 

I located the Peace Monks and their police escort. I followed them on foot. There are  stretches of Route 1 where one sees mostly woods, fields, and pastures. The farms are at least a quarter mile from the highway.  Frequently I saw a family, standing at the entrance to their farm, respectfully greeting the monks. Hundreds of people were gathered at major crossroads. Many had flowers, fruit, water, and items that might bring some comfort to the monks.

Dinwiddie County residents and visitors gathered along the road to support and thank 15 or 20 Buddhist monks, for their symbolic walk that called for all of us to pause, and consider how we could be more caring for one another. It was as if a bubble of peace and compassion would surround the space wherever the monks walked.

I saw big rugged men wipe tears from their eyes, mothers holding babies and many saying things like “Bless you!” and “Thank you!” There were no cheers or hollers. There was respect for what the Peace Monks were trying to accomplish. The monks were seeking to reawaken among all of us an alternative to the hate, anger, violence present in our nation. 

When I saw them in Dinwiddie, they seemed tired. They had been walking through blizzards, ice and sub-freezing temperatures. Many appeared ill or walking while injured. Yet despite this, their pace was quick and unstopping.

They did stop whenever they came upon people who were obviously dealing with some kind of physical distress. People in wheelchairs, people on crutches, people who exhibited some kind of physical distress. When they saw someone like this, the monks stopped and blessed the injured and disabled. They would chant a prayer and tie a multicolored bracelet on the person’s wrist. They then resumed their walk.

I never had a chance to talk with any of the monks. They are celibate and remain set apart from the public. A few days later, I helped with crowd control at the Peace Monk’s evening rest stop at Wright Chapel United Methodist Church in Caroline County,  just South of Fredericksburg. At the conclusion of a talk by the lead monk, some of the monks came out to pass out bracelets.

There were well over a thousand people who had sat out in the cold for almost four hours to see the monks' arrival and listen to whatever the monks planned to share. My job was to protect the monks from being overwhelmed by well meaning people. At some point, the monk with whom I stood, grabbed my arm  and tied a bracelet onto my wrist. No words were spoken. He just grabbed my wrist.

We are engaged in trying to restore justice and compassion to our nation. We are in conflict with some who want to limit both justice and compassion to a select few while denying the same to others. While it is important to stand up for justice, it is also important that we do not ourselves become vehicles of exclusion and hate. I think this is the message of the Peace Monks. Reinhold Niebuhr’s prayer comes to mind:

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
 And the wisdom to know the difference.”