"If you saw a feeble blind woman trapped at a busy intersection, would you immediately go help her, or would you ask her questions such as 'Are you Buddhist?' or 'Don't you have any relatives to look after you?' By then, she would have probably been hit or run over by a car." Wishing to help all suffering souls in the world, Tzu Chi volunteer Chen Chin-fa often leaves his comfortable mansion to personally deliver Tzu Chi relief items to the poorest of the poor in the world.

Situated on the seventh floor of a new high-rise building, Hoi Paper is among Taiwan's top three paper companies. Chen Chin-fa is the owner of the company. In the past, Chen was known in the local business circle for his sumptuous lifestyle. Every year he would drink a 40-foot container load of expensive red wine, and he often flew first-class to Japan just to satisfy his drinking urges. Now he is known for his philanthropic acts, and he often flies economy class to disaster-stricken regions to help the needy. He used to work less than two hours a day and spend the rest of the day drinking. Now he often sleeps less than four hours a day when he is doing international relief work. This drastic change happened in just one day.

A twist of fate

On September 25, 1994, Chen was reborn.

On that day, he and his wife, Shu-ying, flew to the Abode of Still Thoughts, the home of the Tzu Chi Foundation, to donate a large sum of money. Being a heavy drinker and believing that alcohol was the finest delicacy in the world, he had drunk a lot the night before. The following day, when he was prostrating himself before Master Cheng Yen, he noticed for the first time in his life how horrible alcohol made his breath smell. He suddenly remembered that "no drinking" was one of the Buddhist precepts. Feeling embarrassed, he held his breath. To his surprise, the Master did not even raise her eyebrows but instead said to him gently, "Amitabha, may you be blessed."

Later at Tzu Chi Hospital, Chen saw a group of male volunteers doing construction work. The Master, who happened to walk by, told Chen that many of the volunteers were rich company owners. Seeing other executives doing heavy manual labor while he simply stood by and watched made Chen feel embarrassed. While walking around the hospital, Chen wondered how a petite nun who had no money could have the courage to construct a general hospital and inspire millions of people. How many difficulties and hardships she must have endured and conquered! Chen, who had been proud of his success in building his enterprise from nothing, felt extremely small before the Master. "While the Master has been using her life to help any number of people, all I've been doing is drinking and squandering my life."

When Chen and his wife flew back to Taipei at 5:30 that afternoon, he suddenly said to her, "I'm going to be a vegetarian from now on." Shu-ying remained silent because she thought that he was merely joking.

Chen did have a vegetarian meal that night. Realizing how he had drunk a good part of his life away, he could not bear to take another sip of alcohol. The Master's words resonated in his mind: "A glass of wine has no feet. If you do not touch it, the wine will not enter your mouth."

The following night, Chen surprised his wife again with another astonishing announcement: "I'm going to quit drinking from now on." Seeing Chen sitting down at the dining table, his son immediately ran to the cellar to get a bottle of expensive red wine. However Chen explained, "Thank you son, but I'm not going to be drinking anymore." His son, who had never seen a day his father had eaten without wine, was baffled and asked with concern, "Dad, are you all right?" From that day on, Chen never touched wine again.

In Buddhism, not eating meat nurtures a person's compassion, while refraining from alcohol sharpens a person's wisdom. Probably because Chen had renounced these two vices, he was able to make the wise decision to dedicate his life to international relief work through the Tzu Chi missions.

Sprouting the seed of compassion

Everyone possesses seeds of compassion. When conditions are right, the seeds will sprout. Chen's seed emerged when he first joined a Tzu Chi international relief project in Cambodia on October 30, 1994.

In Tzu Chi, all volunteers who are assigned to go on international relief trips must pay their expenses from their own pockets. Despite the costs, many volunteers are eager to participate because they believe that seeing and helping the suffering will greatly enable them to nurture compassion and wisdom. However, Chen's intention in going on this trip was different. He told Master Cheng Yen that many of his business friends could not understand why Tzu Chi continued to help foreign disaster victims using Taiwanese people's donations. He wanted to find an answer so he could straighten out his friends' doubts.

In July 1994, 13 provinces in Cambodia were badly flooded. The water did not recede until October. Eager to extend a helping hand, Master Cheng Yen promptly dispatched a four-person fact-finding team to Cambodia to arrange for a relief distribution set for November 5. Chen, who had just joined Tzu Chi in late September that year, was lucky enough to be chosen to implement the project. He was happy that he had finally been selected.

But the happiness was brief.

When the plane landed at Phnom Penh Airport, he was so nervous that he felt as if his heart would leap out of his mouth. He could not believe that the plane was rolling on a gravel-paved taxiway. Having been a frequent visitor to developed countries, he had never seen an airport as crude as this one. "How I wished I could have just picked up my baggage and gone home immediately." Chen confessed that he was very heartless at the time; he was so blinded by the country's backwardness that he could not see the people's suffering. Possessing a morbid fear of anything dirty, Chen was shocked to see how disorderly and filthy Cambodia was. Furthermore, the impoverished nation had an abundance of three things: landmines, snakes, and mosquitoes. However, if Chen withdrew now, he would not know how to face Master Cheng Yen again. So he stayed on with the team unwillingly, feeling unhappy every day.

On November 4, the governor of Batdambang Province pleaded with the Tzu Chi team members to help his people. Batdambang had been a battlefield for the Khmer Rouge, and most of the people there had been displaced from their homes. When the team arrived, thousands of villagers swarmed toward them. "Are they planning to rob us?" Fear overwhelmed Chen. Unexpectedly, the crowd stopped just three meters [10 ft] away from the volunteers. Upon looking at these people, Chen was overwhelmed with sadness and sympathy. Wherever he looked, he saw nothing but feeble women and skinny children who apparently suffered from malnutrition. The few men present were all handicapped with incomplete limbs. How the wars had severely traumatized these poor people, both physically and mentally! Tears welled up in Chen's eyes. Believing that men should shed no tears, he quickly turned to his right but found that there were also people there. Clinching back his tears, he turned again, but there were hundreds of people behind him as well. Realizing that he was surrounded by the poorest of the poor, Chen gazed up at the sky and mumbled, "Master, the refugees are even more miserable than the flood victims. We must help them." Suddenly, a scene flashed across his mind. As if watching a movie, he saw how much good food he had thrown away in the past when he had become too full to eat. "If I could retrieve all that food I wasted, I would kneel in front of each one of the refugees and offer it to them."

The seed of compassion had sprouted. His determination to help the needy was now firm. During the trip, Chen contracted cellulitis and his legs became as swollen as an elephant's. But because he wanted to help distribute relief supplies to people, he endured the pain for days and only had his legs treated when he returned to Taiwan on December 11. A doctor told him that if he had returned two days later, his legs would have had to be amputated. For the first time in his life, Chen was hospitalized. Any slight movement would shoot searing pain throughout his body. Since another relief team was leaving for Batdambang on December 29, Chen insisted on leaving the hospital. But this time Master Cheng Yen was worried about Chen's health and would not let him go. In order to reassure the Master that he had recovered, he flew back to the Abode of Still Thoughts to see her. Fully aware that people were observing him, Chen tried his best to walk with ease. He was so good at it that nobody knew he was in pain. But when he finally prostrated himself before the Master, he could no longer pretend because he could not stand up. "I cannot possibly let you go to Cambodia in this condition," the Master said with concern. "But I vowed to help them," Chen insisted. "Besides, the doctors gave me some medicine. I just need to keep taking it and I'll recover soon." He showed the Master the medicine. Seeing that no one would be able to change his mind, the Master finally permitted Chen to go.

Chen was no longer squeamish about dirtiness. He learned to open his heart and humble himself to serve others. A driver, a local Taiwanese businessman, and Chen's team of four traveled extensively in a small van. Chen volunteered to sit in the back which, partially occupied by baggage, was very tight and cramped for him. Moreover, since the roads were continuously bumpy and his feet were positioned uncomfortably, he felt that his back could break into pieces at any moment. Yet such hardships did not stop him from fulfilling his vows to help displaced people.

In April 1995, a relief distribution was held for 86,000 displaced people whose homes had been ravaged by the Khmer Rouge. At the distribution site, 20 kilometers from the Khmer Rouge area, Chen witnessed two heartbreaking scenes.

April is the hottest month in Cambodia; the average temperature is about 46 degrees Celsius [115 F]. Cracked dirt and dried ditches can be seen everywhere. Tzu Chi volunteers, distributing bag after bag of rice to refugees, often fainted from heatstroke and dehydration, but when they recovered they continued with the distribution because they could not bear to see emaciated refugees waiting under the scorching sun. As Chen was handing out rice, he saw a woman trying to pacify her crying baby. Having reached the end of her wits, the mother held the baby in one hand and painstakingly squeezed her own bare breast. After a long time, five drops of milk finally fell into her palm. She immediately rubbed it onto the infant's neck, hoping to diminish some of the heat. How precious the milk was!

Then he saw an infant tightly wrapped in a krama, a long, narrow checkered cotton cloth. It was illogical to have the baby wrapped up in such sweltering weather. Chen, accompanied by a translator, approached the woman holding the infant. Then she opened the krama and revealed a dead tiny baby girl. Startled, Chen asked, "Why are you waiting in line? Why haven't you buried her?" "Because if I don't get relief supplies now, my other six children will also die," the woman lamented. All of life should be equal, so Chen wondered why these displaced people were living like candles in a gust of wind while he lived such a comfortable life in Taiwan.

In two years, he traveled to Cambodia over 20 times. Each trip fostered his compassion and gratitude towards the care recipients, who have been described by Master Cheng Yen as "kind bodhisattvas" who allow people to witness suffering and thus constantly inspire them to cherish what they have. Their manifestation of life's torments taught Chen to seize every moment to help the less fortunate without expecting anything in return.

A test

Chen believed that nothing could ever dampen his compassion and perseverance in his devotion to the Tzu Chi international relief missions. Chen had always felt this way until he encountered many obstacles while participating in a relief mission to China. In July 1996, Typhoon Herb wrecked and flooded many provinces in China; Hebei Province was one of the worst hit areas. The Master asked Chen if he wanted to lead a relief team, and Chen accepted joyfully. But once in Hebei, he met challenges that had never occurred before in Cambodia.

The day before departing for China, Chen had just returned from Cambodia, where temperatures had been over 40 degrees Celsius [105 F]. Chen arrived home in Taiwan at midnight. After only four hours of rest, he left for Hebei, where the temperature was minus ten degrees [+14 F]. In Cambodia, all the officials were happy to have Tzu Chi volunteers there. Chinese officials, however, who had suspicions about the relief team's intentions, were not very helpful. Although Chen wanted to follow the Master's instructions to directly give materials and care to the flood survivors without going through any third party, he found it difficult to do so. Many policemen surrounded the team members so that they could not even approach the villagers. Chen was frustrated that the Chinese officials would not trust Tzu Chi's tenet of unselfish giving. He and the other members had come to help without expecting anything in return, but he did not expect the officials would be so uncooperative.

After the distribution ended, the team returned to Taiwan to report to the Master. After everyone had spoken and left, Chen suddenly knelt down before the Master and burst into tears. "What's the matter?" the Master asked with concern. Thinking that she would comfort him and pat his head like a mother would to her son, Chen poured out his feelings of unfair treatment to the Master. But she only pointed out gently, "Who asked you to go?" and then she walked back into her study. Dumbfounded, Chen slowly stood up and pondered the question in the garden alone. Time passed by slowly. Finally after about 20 minutes, Chen found the answer. Although the Master did indeed ask him to go, he was the one who had pleaded with the Master to let him join the team because he could not bear to see people suffer. And did he truly go to Hebei without expecting anything in return? No, he had at least wanted the officials to be cooperative. "If I can't even overcome this little setback, then I'm not qualified to be a member of another international relief team. But if I'm compassionate enough, I won't allow an unfriendly environment to trouble me."

Moreover he realized that if he could wisely activate the compassion of the villagers and the officials, then they could truly eradicate suffering and bring happiness. "That is the true goal of all relief missions." A few months later, Chen returned to Hebei again to build a school for local children and to give care to flood survivors. He and the other volunteers seized every minute to visit damaged villages. Officials asked them if they wanted to rest and take naps, but Chen explained that they wanted to make use of every minute to the fullest. The local officials who accompanied the volunteers all developed blisters on their feet, but Chen and the other volunteers remained spirited. Chen also shared with the officials Tzu Chi's philosophy and his experiences in Cambodia. When Tzu Chi people finished their relief distributions, they simply left without promoting Buddhism or setting any requests for the aid recipients to follow. After relief teams visited China two more times, the officials changed their attitudes. One even hugged Chen and said through his sobs that he had misunderstood the Tzu Chi volunteers, but now he realized that Tzu Chi people truly did not expect anything in return for their deeds. Since then, whenever Tzu Chi people hand relief goods to villagers, the local cadres also help out, and like the Tzu Chi people they say to the villagers softly, "I am grateful to you."

Love must be tangible

By staying sober, Chen realized that he could give life so much meaning. Chen has helped the needy in countries such as Cambodia, China, Vietnam, Indonesia, North Korea, Lesotho, South Africa, Azerbaijan, and Afghanistan. He has also helped his company to earn more profits. When he quit drinking, he told his employees that he was entrusting the company to them because he was going to help the underprivileged from then on. In following Chen's instructions to do business with the Tzu Chi principles of "sincerity, integrity, trust, and honesty," the employees treated the company as their own and made it into one of the top three paper companies in Taiwan. Having participated in international relief work for close to a decade and having seen so much misery and suffering in the world, Chen has discovered that his goal in life is to help and love others.

At the end of our interview, Chen knew that I had to transfer subways a couple of times to return to my office, so he asked his driver to give me a ride back. Like a father lovingly addressing his son, Chen softly asked the driver, "I'm sorry, I know it's lunch time, but could you please take Ms. Chang back to her office? I'll make sure that you have time to eat when you get back, okay?" I remember what Chen told me about love: "When you love others--be it family members, employees, or disaster victims--you need to make sure that they feel truly loved." This is by no means an easy task to achieve, but I am sure the driver must have felt Chen's love then.