She used to weep
when watching the sun set,
feeling despondent about the passing of life.
After her life-long search,
she has at last found the meaning of life...

Her straight bangs and graceful gestures carry an air of nostalgia. There is a trace of an educated lady of earlier times, when Chinese women had just been emancipated from traditional fetters. Like many modern women of that era, she is very fond of Chinese opera. In fact, I suspect that her graceful gestures are a result of her own training as an amateur Chinese opera singer. When she cited her favorite poem to me, she even looked for a moment as though she were singing a part in a Chinese opera:

"The Yangtze River rolls towards the east with no return.
The breaking waves wash away all heroes in the course of time.
Their rights or wrongs, successes or failures are gone in an instant.
While the mountains still stand verdant,
The sunset has many times turned the sky red."

Walking into the home of Yao Pai-fang, a roomy apartment tucked away in a quiet lane in the hub of Taipei, I was astonished by the array of paintings and Chinese antiques displayed in the living room. There is even a painting of a horse by the eminent Chinese painter Hsu Pei-hung, among others. Stepping further into the study, I found rows of books filling the wall up to the ceiling. This is a residence typical of a Chinese litterateur, but the life pursuit of Pai-fang is much more than that.

"I started reading classical poetry at the age of ten," said Pai-fang. "Maybe that was why I began to realize the impermanence of life and the world at a very young age. If you have noticed, besides paintings and antiques, there are also plenty of clocks in my home."

Seize the day

One can often find in Chinese poetry and literary works laments about the passing of time and the impermanence of life. This motif has greatly influenced Pai-fang. She has tended to be melancholy since she was young and she even used to weep when watching the sun set, feeling despondent over the fact that she could not hold on to time and, most of all, to life. Nonetheless, she has also learned to make good use of the present time because of her realization of the impermanence of life. She puts clocks all over the place in order to remind herself of the passing of time and the need to seize every moment she has.

Pai-fang married at the age of twenty-three. Her husband is quite rich, and so there is no need for her to go out and work for money. "I could have spent my time shopping, sipping coffee in a cafe, and arranging all sorts of social appointments like many of my relatives and friends," mused Pai-fang. But she did not do that. Aware that life is short and passing, she did not want to idle a single minute away.

With plenty of time at her disposal, Pai-fang read Chinese literature voraciously. She even obtained a master's degree in Chinese literature at the Hong Kong New Asia Institute of Advanced Chinese Studies, though she was originally trained in computer programming. Her zeal for Chinese literature impelled her to immerse herself in Chinese literary works, but they did not seem to provide her the answer to life. She searched for that all her life until the death of her mother, which marked a turning point in her seemingly endless quest.

Pai-fang's father passed away when she was very young. Her widowed mother endured all kinds of hardships to bring up Pai-fang and her sister. "My mother was an uneducated countrywoman, but to me she was very special," remembers Pai-fang. "She taught me the wisdom of life. She used to cite aphorisms to me, many of which I later heard from Master Cheng Yen. I find this an amazing coincidence! For example, she used to say, 'Even Confucius doesn't dare to accept an invitation for tomorrow.' It means that no one can ever predict the future, not even the very next day. She taught me the idea of impermanence, which is why I have learned to make good use of every moment that I have." Pai-fang thinks that her mother had a life-long influence on her. "That's why I think a mother's teachings are extremely important to a child."

Grief

When her mother passed away, Pai-fang was completely devastated. "Someone whom I loved so much just faded away right in front of me," said Pai-fang. She came to have an even deeper understanding of the impermanence of life, yet she still could not get over her mother's death. She began to seek consolation from religion.

"I used to have only contempt for Buddhism as I thought it was a kind of superstition. But at that time, I even went to seek advice from a spiritual medium. I wanted to know where my mother had gone." The medium told her that her mother was with the Earth Treasury Bodhisattva. Naturally, Pai-fang was delighted to hear this. It was only later when she had a better knowledge of Buddhism that she realized what the medium had told her was all lies.

Before Pai-fang formally came into contact with Buddhism, she had read about its philosophy in many Chinese literary works, as Buddhism had a great influence upon Chinese literature of the pre-modern period. She could accept most of the ideas, but found them too lofty and remote from reality. On the other hand, the Buddhism she observed in daily life was mostly represented by the golden statues of the Buddha or the chanting of sutras by monks and nuns. These were not what she was looking for.

However, things changed after her mother's death. Desperate to know the whereabouts of her mother's soul, Pai-fang not only visited the spiritual medium, but started reading a series of books on Buddhism by the Venerable Master Yin Shun, the mentor of Master Cheng Yin. Gradually, she came to know that Buddhism is far from being a superstition. In fact, according to Buddhism, man is his own master and there is no higher being or power that sits in judgment over his destiny. When Pai-fang was introduced to Tzu Chi, she knew she had finally come to the right place.

"Even before I joined Tzu Chi, I was always inspired by people like Schweitzer, Mother Teresa and Helen Keller," said Pai-fang. "I knew I was destined to be a social worker." However, she also knew that it is not uncommon for people in charity organizations to seek fame and gain, and many efforts and donations are thus wasted. She wanted to look for an organization where her efforts could be best used. When she learned about Tzu Chi, she thought she had finally found the place where the compassion of the Buddha could be practiced in daily life, instead of remaining mere intangible words.

Pai-fang became a member of Tzu Chi about twelve years ago. However, she did not stay with the foundation all the time. She left for a period of six years, partly because she immigrated to Canada and partly for other reasons. Returning to Tzu Chi after her six-year absence, she found that there had been vast changes in the foundation as well as in her attitude. "I know I was arrogant when I first joined. Our cultural department had not yet been set up then and most of the commissioners were housewives who had not received much education. I felt that I couldn't find anyone as well-read as me to engage in interesting conversation or share my opinions with."

When Pai-fang returned from Canada and rejoined Tzu Chi, the mission of culture had been fully developed, and the foundation had also extended its charity work from local to international relief. In addition, the Tzu Chi Marrow Donor Registry had been established and the foundation had also started to promote recycling and community work. Tzu Chi had attracted more elite persons to join its efforts in creating a harmonious society and a better world.

Learned to be humble

Rejoining the foundation after six years, Pai-fang learned to be humble and view things from a different perspective. "I realized what Master Cheng Yen once said was so right. Back when Tzu Chi had only a handful of members, the Master once said to the earliest commissioners, 'Tzu Chi is honored to have you now, but in the future you will feel honored to be part of Tzu Chi.' It is so true. Tzu Chi is well-established now, but if we didn't have those first commissioners then, there would have been no Tzu Chi at all." Pai-fang observed that Master Cheng Yen is a person who shows great gratitude. She has always held the senior commissioners in due respect.

Speaking of Master Cheng Yen, Pai-fang recollected two occasions when she was deeply impressed.

Not long after she had joined Tzu Chi, Pai-fang was asked to give a speech on stage during a gathering of Tzu Chi members. Though totally unprepared, her speech was so moving that many members were in tears at the end of it. Pai-fang reckons that her eloquence must have left a deep impression on the Master, who must also have noticed her arrogance. One day at the Abode, when Pai-fang was washing her hands at a basin, the Master walked up to her and said, "Pai-fang, you are extremely smart, yet you have not the wisdom of the Buddhist practitioners." Pai-fang was not convinced by the Master's words then. She thought to herself, Aren't you being too hard on me, Master? I have only been learning Buddhism for a year." However, through this incident she began to realize that the cultivation of wisdom was what the Master expected of her.

On another occasion, some commissioners managed to raise funds from an entrepreneur. In the early days, it was rather difficult to raise funds, as the average living standard was quite low. The commissioners were very excited when they informed the Master, "Come quickly, Master! There is a rich man who has come to make a generous donation." The Master replied, "Does that mean that I can take my time and be disrespectful if the person waiting for me today is not rich?"

Setting out on the road to becoming a Tzu Chi commissioner again, Pai-fang's commitment to helping Master Cheng Yen is ever more firm. Presently, she is writing a book on the tragic stories of Chinese veterans in northern Thailand. They are a group of Chinese soldiers who were sent to northern Thailand to continue battling against the Chinese Communists when the Nationalist government retreated to Taiwan in 1949. The government in Taiwan continued to support them for a while, but later cut off aid. Because they are Chinese, they cannot obtain Thai citizenship or receive social welfare. Worse, due to the complicated immigration rules implemented by the Nationalist government, they cannot become Taiwanese citizens either. They have thus been stranded in northern Thailand with no nationality. Since 1995, Tzu Chi has carried out a comprehensive relief plan to help improve the living conditions of these veterans and their families, who have stayed in refugee camps most of their lives.

Incidentally, Pai-fang read a novel about these old soldiers when she was ten. She could not help crying over the misery of these veterans when she learned about their predicament. She thought to herself, "One day when I can afford to, I must go help these people."

"It's incredible! When you have the will, circumstances will show you the way," remarked Pai-fang, marveling about her involvement in the relief plan in northern Thailand. When Pai-fang learned that Tzu Chi was going to carry out a three-year community-building project there, she registered to become a regular donor. Not long after that, she received a call from foundation vice president Lin Pi-yu, asking her if she could produce a report on the lives of the veterans and the implementation of the three-year project. In this way, Pai-fang began visiting the veterans in northern Thailand, just as she had vowed to do many years ago.

The tragic lives of the veterans

"If we compare them to the needy in mainland China or Ethiopia, they might not be as poor. But theirs is the tragedy of an era." Being stranded in a foreign land for most of their lives, these veterans not only suffer physically, but mentally as well. "Most of the veterans are about seventy years old now, but they look like they are already ninety," said Pai-fang. The veterans age early partly because of malnutrition--the lands around the refugee camps are mostly covered by infertile red soil. And with no nationality, it is impossible for them to go to the city to look for jobs. When Tzu Chi members first visited the refugee camps, they discovered that the veterans were only getting two meals a day because of their tight financial situation.

Tzu Chi members visited two nursing homes regularly; one in Phatang, the other in Bann-mai Nong Bua. In just a few years' time, the number of old and disabled veterans there has rapidly decreased. The number in Bann-mai Nong Bua nursing home dropped from more than a hundred to less than eighty, and in Phatang nursing home from twenty to seven. In Phatang, five veterans passed away within a single week. "Their deaths are not simply due to old age or sickness," said Pai-fang. "It was mainly because of malnutrition, and most of them had asthma. It was extremely cold there last winter. They were too weak to withstand the cold."

One of the veterans who passed away last winter is the protagonist in Pai-fang's book. "He still looked very healthy the last time I saw him," Pai-fang grieved. "His name was An-ting (literally, "stability"). His parents must have given him the name to bless him, yet it turned out to be the irony of his life."

To solve the root of their problem, the relief plan includes not only the construction of houses and roads to improve the living conditions there, but also schools and professional institutions. "This is the wisdom of the Master," remarked Pai-fang. "If the children there can receive professional training, there is hope that they can obtain Thai citizenship. We are now undertaking a fund-raising campaign for the building of schools and institutions." It is hoped that Pai-fang's book on the veterans' stories can arouse wide concern from the public and bring in more funds for the campaign.

Pai-fang's daughter once doubted her mother's motivation for doing social work. "Do you really think that there is a Book of Merits in heaven?" she asked. In Chinese folk belief, it is said that there is a Book of Merits in heaven, which records the good deeds each person has done in his lifetime. "Of course I know that that's just a superstition," said Pai-fang to her daughter. "I'm doing all this because I feel I'm blessed by heaven and by my mother's love. I have had too much in this life. I feel grateful and I want to give back to society what I have received. Furthermore, I don't want my life to be wasted away." After her life-long search, Pai-fang at last no longer feels despondent about the passing of life. She has found the meaning of life in devoting herself to helping others.