When we face challenges in life, we all embrace the same attitudes: positive, optimistic, and never giving up.

On Chinese New Year's Eve, I saw the TV news report about Lin Chung-ming's death. I was in tears for a long time. Even now when I think of it, I still become very disconsolate. I had sent him a letter a while before, but I never thought that he would die a few months later.

A young boy with only one arm

I first met Chung-ming five years ago in a hospital. I was twenty years old and he was only twelve. An old injury on my knee had flared up again, and I had gone to the Tzu Chi Hospital in Hualien for treatment. They discovered a tumor on the bone, and I was pushed into an operating room for a biopsy. Thus, I felt a little depressed.

After the surgery, a Tzu Chi volunteer, Yen Hui-mei, brought Chung-ming to my bed. To my surprise, the little boy had only one arm. Sister Yen told me his story.

Chung-ming came from a poor, single-parent family in Miaoli, in northern Taiwan. His left arm had had a large bulge for some time, for unknown reasons. If it was accidentally touched, it would bleed incessantly. However, the family was very poor and couldn't afford medical treatment.

Chung-ming went to attend a Tzu Chi year-end ceremony. The tumor on his left arm suddenly shot up streams of blood. Volunteers promptly arranged for him to check into the Tzu Chi Hospital in Hualien. The boy was diagnosed with Rhabdomyo sarcoma. Since the tumor was so enormous, the doctor had to amputate his left arm.

Chung-ming came to see me shortly after his surgery. He was an active boy, so even though the wound was still painful, he hopped into the ward behind the volunteer with one empty sleeve swinging. Sister Yen introduced us and he very politely called me "Elder Sister."

Sister Yen mentioned that Chung-ming, who was still in elementary school, wanted to study English. Since I was a student at the department of foreign languages, she asked me whether I could teach him English.

Teach him English? Now I was completely dumbfounded and very embarrassed. Although I was in my third year, I had never once tutored anyone and I was scared to do it. How should I teach him English? I liked the language so I kept up with it, but I never thought of how I learned the language or how I should teach the language to others.

With the expectation in Chung-ming's eyes and the encouragement from Sister Yen and my parents, I had to force myself to accept my first student.

So there we were, a teacher with one foot in a cast and a student with only one arm. That kind of English lesson had to be very rare.

The hospital was not a school, and the ward was not a classroom. I simply grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the twenty-six English letters. I illustrated each one with a word and some crude pictures. And so we started our lessons.

A few days later, the result of my biopsy came out and I was transferred to Taiwan University Hospital in Taipei. I spent the following weeks fighting against the disease, and lost contact with Chung-ming.

My first time as an English teacher only lasted for half an hour. Nevertheless, the memory is still vivid to me.

A good student, friend and comrade

I sent a card every year to Sister Yen, but I never had the courage to ask her about Chung-ming. To us, it was not a question of whether we were still in touch with each other--it was a question of whether he was still alive.

Last year, I read about Chung-ming in a newspaper article about his fight against his cancer. He also starred in "The Plane with One Wing," a Tzu Chi TV dramatization of his own story. I felt more relaxed, seeing that he was indeed still alive. I sent a card to Sister Yen and asked her to forward it to Chung-ming.

"The Plane with One Wing" was a nickname given to Chung-ming by some children living in the disaster areas after the big earthquake of September 21, 1999. Chung-ming went with Tzu Chi volunteers to the disaster areas to bring courage to the children there. The children saw how he courageously refused to give up. Even though Chung-ming had only one "wing," he still flew happily in the sky of life.

Shortly afterwards, I received a reply from him. On the envelope he gave me the title of "English teacher" instead of "Miss." An English teacher for only half an hour? I laughed.

There was a photo of him inside. The boy from five years ago had turned into a handsome young man. There was still a smile on his face, and it did not show how much suffering he had gone through.

A few days ago, a volunteer phoned me at home and asked me how I was doing. In our conversation, Chung-ming's name was mentioned. I found out that his cancer had metastasized and Chung-ming had been forced to receive chemotherapy countless times! When I recalled the photo he had sent half a year ago, it showed that he was a sunshine boy who had endured much hardship!

We didn't communicate for five years after I left Hualien. But perhaps since both of us were ill, we still seemed to know each other when we started writing to each other. Maybe there was a great gap in terms of our ages or our medical treatments, but we embraced the same attitude towards challenges in life: positive, optimistic, and never giving up.

During those days, I was too busy with my recovery to accept any other students, but a half-hour lesson with Chung-ming rewarded me with his full appreciation five years later. I felt guilty to be called his teacher. I wrote back to him saying that we were like friends--good friends who supported each other on the paths of our difficult lives.

Indeed, whether we were teacher and student or just friends, I firmly believe that both of us became stronger after our unexpected challenges.

I went back to school after suspending my education for a year. After graduating from the university, I passed the exams and entered graduate school. I also took some courses in education. In a course on special education, the professor told us that students who had been disfigured by tumors were considered special students.

I thought of Chung-ming, a student, a friend and a comrade. Sometimes I imagine myself becoming a teacher one day and teaching many students. However, I will never forget my encounter with the "Plane with One Wing."

I want to dedicate this article to the brave warrior of life, Lin Chung-ming. I hope that he may rest in peace with no more suffering.