They gesticulated happily, seeming to have forgotten themselves. The rich array of their body language was as interesting as the old Tzu Chi stories they were narrating.

Elderly Ching Yu, supported by a walking stick and several other Tzu Chi commissioners who were almost as old as she was, walked towards us. When I looked at them more closely, I found that their hair had all turned gray and hoary. The scene before my eyes--old people supporting old people--filled me, who had come to cover their stories, with the most tender feelings.

Ching Hsing, Ching Li, Ching Yu, Ching Chih and Ching Hsing (Buddhist names given by Master Cheng Yen), all senior Tzu Chi commissioners living in Pingtung, southern Taiwan, were dressed neatly in navy blue Tzu Chi uniforms with commissioners' identification cards fastened to their lapels. Some of them even wore lipstick for the interview. Tzu Chi commissioners always mindfully do their best, no matter what it is they are engaged in.

Someone once said that beauty resides on the faces of hard-working women. Looking at these elderly Tzu Chi commissioners, I found that those who have dedicated their lives to helping others are even more beautiful!

We are only eighty

Although Ching Hsing was eighty years old, her droopy eyes still shone brightly when she reminisced about the past. But as soon as she stopped talking, she started dozing off. She has been a Tzu Chi volunteer for thirty-five years. All the happiness and tribulations she has gone through have left indelible marks on her face. One thing about these senior Tzu Chi volunteers really impressed me--although they have been working for Tzu Chi for a long time, every time they talk about the Master and Tzu Chi, they still cannot contain their emotion and are often choked with sobs.

Old people move slowly. With their hair hoary, their teeth feeble, and their eyes dim with age, they are most afraid that they will become a burden to others and will no longer be welcome. When they attend Tzu Chi activities or collect donations for the foundation, they all have to depend on someone to drive them to their destinations. Time is really fleeting and merciless!

Ching Yu said that she used to ride a bicycle to collect donations from Tzu Chi members, but since she fell off her bike on one of her trips she has had trouble even walking. She had barely finished her sentence when she suddenly blurted out, "Uh-uh, don't ask me to talk about my past experiences. The Master always asks us to forget what we have done before and just keep on doing what we should do." The Master's words never for a moment slip their minds.

It was Ching Hsing's turn to speak again. She roused herself from her drowsiness and said spiritedly, "Since we're disciples of the Master, how do we dare talk about retiring?" Once she mentioned to the Master that considering she was more than eighty years old, maybe it was time for her to "retire" from volunteer work. But the Master replied, "You are ONLY eighty years old. Don't ever talk about that!" Therefore, Ching Hsing forgot about retirement and went on working for Tzu Chi.

The same thing happened to Ching Li. A victim of degenerative arthritis, the 66-year-old commissioner had asked three times for the Master's permission to resign from her position as section head at Tzu Chi and let younger volunteers take over her job. But what the Master said--"How old do you think you are?"--discouraged her from bringing up the subject again. Every morning she recycles resources for Tzu Chi, and whenever she has time she goes to the Pingtung Tzu Chi branch office to do chores and prepare meals for the staff.

The Master once said that bowls, chopsticks and spoons all have their functions. With all the missions that Tzu Chi is carrying out, they can always find something interesting to do. "Our strength is as great as our commitment," Ching Li has come to realize. "I should work harder while I still can. Someday when I am too old to move, even if I want to work, my strength will not allow me."

Ching Chih, who joined Tzu Chi in 1977, took out an old copy of the Tzu Chi Commissioners' Directory. Although its cover was mottled yellow, the directory was still in very good condition. Leafing through it, I found that the word "deceased" was printed next to the names of some commissioners. I could not help feeling sad in the face of relentlessly fleeting time.

In the course of our interview, Ching Hsing put on her reading glasses once in a while to read the questions we had prepared. Like a diligent student, she was afraid that she would be unable to answer them later.

Sometimes these commissioners would argue about the accuracy of a certain fact or location--they all have their own memories of Tzu Chi and its past. But happiness always shone on their faces when they were talking about those early years, as if they were reminiscing about their good old schoolgirl days.

They talked and gesticulated merrily. The rich array of their body language was as interesting as the old Tzu Chi stories they were narrating.

The afternoon sun of southern Taiwan shone in through the windows and played on their faces. Birds warbled outside. The sporadic noise of street traffic pierced the quiet of the Pingtung afternoon. The Tzu Chi stories that they were telling were like the warm afternoon sun that spilled into the room. They warmed our hearts and took us beyond the present into the bygone days.

No distance

In order to collect more information about Tzu Chi's past, we headed towards Taichung, central Taiwan, the next day.

Hsueh Shu-chen, whose Buddhist name was Ching Liang, wore a red checkered skirt, a purple vest and a flowery shirt. The colors of her clothes radiated passion. Although she was dressed in her everyday clothes, we could tell at a glance from her hair wound up in a neat bun (the typical hair arrangement of female Tzu Chi commissioners) and her dignified, cordial air that she was a Tzu Chi volunteer.

Many past events came alive during the course of our conversation. The eight cars that took the Master and her disciples around on their home-care visits to the poor in the early years--along with the chauffeurs--were provided by Hsueh Shu-chen. More than ten years ago, when the Tzu Chi Taichung branch office was established, the first telephone line in the office was transferred from Hsueh's residence. Counting the years, she found that she had been a member of Tzu Chi for nearly thirty years.

Chang Yun-lang has known the Master for fifty years. Fifty years! What a long time, especially for a junior like me!

There were three of them who had been especially good friends with the Master when they were young. Among them, Chang Yun-lang was the second oldest and the Master came third. Years later when the Master gave the Buddhist name Ching Meng ("pure oath") to Yun-lang, she whispered into her ears, "Don't forget the pledges and vows that we made when we were young."

Elated by the stories of the past, Yun-lang ferreted out a black-and-white photograph of the Master in her girlhood (before she became a nun). The Master's hair, braided in long pigtails, was black and fluffy, the expression in her eyes firm and steady. We looked at the picture for a long time, in silence.

It was hard to associate the long-haired girl with the Master. But we all agreed that the Master already looked as dignified and magnanimous as she does now, even though she was only twenty years old then. The determination and resolution to relieve all living creatures from their suffering seemed to have been carved on her face.

The Tzu Chi commissioners' identification card of Wang Yu-ching (Ching Hung) bears the number seventy-three, indicating how long she has been with the foundation since the number has now gone beyond ten thousand. Years ago when she was just twenty years old and fresh from school, she had wanted to become a disciple of the Master. But she was a resident of Tainan, a city located in southern Taiwan, which was a long way from where the Master lived in Hualien in eastern Taiwan. So she mischievously wrote the Master a letter and asked whether she could take refuge in Buddhism and become the Master's disciple at her home in Tainan. Little did she expect that the Master would kindly grant her request by allowing her to receive the ceremony of taking refuge at 5:30 a.m. on the thirty-first of the seventh month on the lunar calendar in her own residence. The Master performed the ceremony in Hualien and Ching Hung received it "through the air" at her home.

From this lovely incident, Ching Hung realized that the Master, who appears to be serious and attentive to every detail, does not stand on ceremony or rigid formality. Despite the exterior space and distance between them, they could still be close to each other spiritually.

An old camera

Our next stop was Hualien. The place we visited was located in the mountains behind the Abode of Still Thoughts.

The navy blue Tzu Chi uniform Li Shih was wearing was faded and discolored with time and age. When she smiled, her eyes narrowed into a line. She kept saying that she was old and her eyes dim and weak. Looking at her, I couldn't help feeling that the eyes of these senior commissioners are like the eyes of the Tzu Chi world. Were it not for them, it would have been impossible for Tzu Chi to have achieved so much. Now that they are old, and their eyes hazy and cloudy, shouldn't we keep them company and walk down the road with them?

Wang Cheng-chih, whose commissioner ID number is fifty-one, is eighty-five years old. Because of his white, bushy eyebrows, big ears, and broad, lovely smile, he was nicknamed "Earth God" (a Chinese god famous for his smile).

"I just did the best I could." Years back, in order to help the Master fulfill her wish to build the Hualien Tzu Chi Hospital, "Earth God" spared no efforts in raising funds. Among all the Tzu Chi volunteers who helped collect funds for the construction of the hospital, he raised the most money.

When Lin Ying-chu first visited the Abode of Still Thoughts in 1967, he was only twenty-nine years old and the Master was thirty-one. On one occasion, he was driving the Master to visit Tzu Chi care recipients. On the way, the Master suggested that they make a detour to call on her disciple, Li Shih, who owned a musical instrument store. The store she owned was rather cramped and had no room for visitors to sit down. But the Master did not mind that at all. Looking comfortable and at ease, she stood in the shop and chatted with her disciples.

"The site of the Hualien Tzu Chi Hospital used to be a livestock farm that belonged to a school. The emergency room of the hospital was a field where sweet potatoes were grown. The social service room was a fish pond and a pigpen..." Lin still remembered that there used to be rows of beautiful kapok trees where the hospital now stands.

Tzu Chi's thirty-fifth anniversary was at hand. Lin, sixty-three years old, said with a sigh, "It will be hard for me to spend another thirty-five years with the Master." His old Nikon camera has been capturing shots for Tzu Chi for thirty-five years. Many pictures that appeared in the magazines published by Tzu Chi in the early years of the foundation were products of his camera. And the camera, like Lin Ying-chu, is still working for Tzu Chi.

The Master's steps are agile and firm. She walks with a graceful gait, but at such a speed that her disciples often find it hard to keep up with her. Although Tzu Chi is thirty-five years old and the Master is no longer young, she walks even more swiftly than before, with Tzu Chi people following close behind her. They try so hard to catch up with her that they even forget to take a break to catch their breath.

Looking at these senior Tzu Chi commissioners, I pray sincerely that they can be healthy and well. They are all such great models for us to learn from.

The eyes of these senior commissioners are like the eyes of the Tzu Chi world. Were it not for them, it would have been impossible for Tzu Chi to have achieved so much.

The Master once said that bowls, chopsticks and spoons all have their functions. With all the Tzu Chi missions, they can always find something interesting to do.