It was clear to him that his flesh would disintegrate and his bones would scatter. His mind whirled as memories flashed by one after another. But he thought of the charitable vows he had made and all the good deeds he hadn't done yet, and he felt he couldn't go yet. He clung tenaciously to life. Miraculously, the doctors saved him. After this near-death experience, he felt a sense of rebirth. Instead of calculating how many years he might have left to live, he started thinking about what contributions he still had to make.

One day, Ho Meng-ting was loading heavy bundles of recycled papers onto a truck. All of a sudden, a suffocating pain clawed at his heart. He broke into a profuse cold sweat and labored for every breath.

Stroking his chest gently, he managed to tell the volunteer beside him that he wasn't feeling very well and that he might be gone soon. However, Ho's easygoing and jocular character kept the volunteer from taking his words seriously. He laughed, "Only the blessed ones can go to heaven at the moment they choose, but I'm sorry, you're not among them. Come on, there's still plenty of work for you to do." With that, the volunteer turned and left.

Tortured by unspeakable pain, Ho staggered into the office of the recycling center for help. The on-duty volunteers were all taken aback when they saw Ho's pale, agonized face. They immediately called 119 (Taiwan's version of 911).

The ambulance arrived quickly. In less than seven minutes, Ho arrived at the emergency room of the Tri-Service General Hospital in Neihu, Taipei. There, he was diagnosed as having a myocardial infarction caused by the blockage of three cardiac veins. If he had arrived at the hospital even five minutes later, he would have lost his life.
　

Tortured by the anguish of death,
I thought how death is just one of the unavoidable processes of life for everyone.
However, I would like to donate my body for medical research.
Thus it is important for me to maintain a poised look,
since I really don't want to scare medical students away.

More than 50 years old, Ho is a Tzu Chi volunteer in Taipei. In addition to doing recycle work, he often takes part in free clinics held by Tzu Chi International Medical Association (TIMA), and serves as a driver of the mobile dental service car.

The incident that almost took Ho's life happened on last March 10th, when he was supposed to drive the mobile car to Tzu Chi Taipei office to reload some medicine, which would be used for a TIMA free clinic in Dehui Park on the 14th. However, Ho changed his mind and wanted to transport some recycled items to Tzu Chi's Neihu Complex. Securing the piles of recycled paper in the truck was an important job to do. Ho insisted on taking on the job himself. It was during his carriage of a large bundle of paper that the accident happened.

After making emergency treatments, the doctor concluded that Ho needed a cardiac catheterization operation immediately. However, there was no vacancy available in the cardiac catheterization room. The doctor suggested Ho transfer to another hospital.

Stricken by the unbearable pain, Ho felt that every second was like a century. The pain even made him unwilling to transfer to other hospitals. "I might just wait for the coming of death," he thought.

Obstruction of the cardiac veins resulted in poor blood circulation in Ho's body. He was paralyzed from his neck down, making his limbs as heavy as a thousand ton weight. Although he remained conscious, his consciousness made him fully aware of all the pain, which resembled the hurt of separating skin from muscle, sinew from bone, or marrow from bone.

All of a sudden, Ho thought that the pain he endured was exactly the same as what the Buddhist sutras described: "When a man's soul leaves his body, the pain will be just like what a turtle suffers when it is driven out from its shell." The "dying" feeling distracted Ho from focusing his thought, and it made him sweat profusely. The four Tzu Chi volunteers who had escorted him to the hospital kept wiping the sweat away and massaging his numb body, trying to cheer him up a little.

At such a critical moment, Ho remembered the wish that he had made ten years ago: donating his body for medical anatomy. He believed if he died with a face distorted by pain, his ugly face would probably scare the medical students away or would even create a learning obstacle for them. He then thought that the chanting of Amitabha Buddha's holy name might help him to obtain a poised and amicable look after he died. Thinking of this, he decided to switch his attention from his physical pain to the chanting. His distorted mind gradually calmed down, and his physical pain was unbelievably relieved a lot.
　

The chanting of Amitabha Buddha's name brought Ho tranquility, and he was ready to die.
Suddenly he started to think: Did he secure the recycled paper to the truck? He had not reloaded the medicine for the TIMA free clinic yet. There were so many things that he hadn't done yet.
　

The unending chanting of Amitabha Buddha's name reminded Ho of his unfulfilled work at Tzu Chi, such as securing the bundles of recycled paper to the truck, reloading medicine on the van for the free clinic that would be held at Dehui Park next Sunday... And who could take his place to drive the van?

All these concerns compelled him to fight for his life, and he chanted Amitabha Buddha's name even more piously. Amazingly, after a few chants of the Buddha's name, a paramedic notified him that there was a vacancy available in the cardiac catheterization room and that he would be sent in for an operation right away.

The medical team placed a vascular graft on one of the obstructed veins. Further surgery on the other two obstructed veins would be done after Ho recuperated for two or three months.

The physical pain was tremendously alleviated after the operation. After he had been in the intensive care unit for a day, a doctor came to him and said, "I know your situation is not yet stable; however, a patient needs this bed urgently..." Ho thought that were it not for the other patient who gave him his bed, he would not have had his operation and lived so far. Thus he agreed to transfer to a general ward. He recovered so quickly that he was discharged from the hospital the next day.

From March 10 to 13, Ho experienced a perilous trial of death. On the morning of March 14, with a brilliant smile on his face, he showed up at the Tzu Chi free clinic at Dehui Park.

In the frivolous days of his youth,
Ho was always able to smooth over all dangers.
In the prime of his life, he didn't believe in religion.
However, he was lucky enough to walk on the Path of the Bodhisattvas and refine himself.
He concludes that he is a blessed person.

Having escaped from the jaws of death, Ho had a better understanding about the fragility of life itself. "Ever since I was a kid, I've regarded human existence as a miracle."

Born in 1954, Ho grew up in a big community where the breadwinners of each family served in the air force. Ho often heard tragic news, such as a neighbor dying of high fever, or a local child drowning or being killed in a car accident. Numerous tragic stories, including the loss of many young lives, were ineradicably etched in his memory, and this led him to continue questioning the meaning of human existence. Even now, many of his questions remain unsolved.

Time flies by so quickly and Ho is over fifty now. Looking back at his unsophisticated and muddleheaded youth, Ho said, "No matter what kind of trouble or danger I got into, I was always lucky enough to squeak by. I'm such a blessed person. I never thought about making donations, doing charity work, or associating myself with any religion, but fortunately I joined Tzu Chi and engaged in charity work."

One day in 1993, when Ho, who worked as a real estate agent, stepped into his office, a colleague introduced him to Hsu Cheng-tzu, a Tzu Chi commissioner. Cheng-tzu invited Ho to become a member of the Tzu Chi Foundation and make contributions to the foundation on a monthly basis. Ho consented perfunctorily since he did not want to offend her or his colleague.

A month later, Cheng-tzu came to collect Ho's donation. Ho remarked that he used to be quite stubborn and was prone to debating with others on any issue. "Being an atheist, I would definitely have rejected Cheng-tzu with a hundred reasons if she had tried to preach to me about Buddhism," he said. To his surprise, Cheng-tzu did not say much; she simply gave him a Tzu Chi Monthly magazine and two tapes. However, her gentle, demure manner impressed Ho very deeply, even though they met only two times for less than five minutes each.

Ho said that he had seen so many people who claimed to be learning the Buddha's teachings by copying sutras or chanting the Buddha's name. But taking a close look at these people, Ho found they usually looked miserable, kept getting involved in all the conflicts and arguments that normal people did, and had a lot of worries in their minds. Ho saw none of this in Cheng-tzu.

One time when Ho was driving, he randomly took out a tape that Cheng-tzu had given him. The tape told the story of Hung Wu-cheng, a Tzu Chi volunteer from central Taiwan. In the tape, Hung related his fascinating story: He used to be a young gangster who robbed casinos, but when he was in prison he saw a mob boss executed by a firing squad. At that, Hung suddenly came to a thorough understanding of his life and world. He realized that the value of life lay in helping the needy whenever possible, and so he decided to enter the big family of Tzu Chi. As the tape played Hung's story, Ho's heart fluctuated between despair and hope.

Ho was especially impressed when Hung said, "The blessed ones will always come across good people and good things wherever they go, which prevents them from walking astray and committing bad deeds." This means that a blessed person will never even consider going down the wrong path, but for those who are not blessed, it is difficult to get away from calamities or come across good luck.

Ho knew that he was far from being perfect: he was not a pious Buddhist who would worship the Buddha with incense in hand or sit quietly for meditation. However, he was so blessed and lucky to rid himself of all danger and evil. Even more, he had--and has--the great chance to do good deeds. He regards himself as being very blessed.
　

Ho used to think that he was unqualified to be a Tzu Chi commissioner,
but he continues to cultivate a profound interest and joy from doing Tzu Chi work,
where he also found the secret of happiness and self-possession.
He and his wife are both Tzu Chi commissioners now.

Tzu Chi commissioners act like vanguards of the foundation. They need to visit the poor, offer timely help to the needy when disasters occur, and collect donations from household to household on a monthly basis. To be qualified for the position, a prospective commissioner must take a one-year training course in order to gain a clear understanding of the foundation's four missions of charity, medicine, education and culture. Ho originally thought that he was unqualified for the noble position of a commissioner, but his enthusiasm toward Tzu Chi activities prompted him to take the training course, and he was certified by Master Cheng Yen in 1997 as a Tzu Chi commissioner.

Ho was once invited to go to a Tzu Chi fundraising bazaar. He saw the sublime expressions on the faces of the volunteers, and he felt the content and ecstatic mood that permeated the whole place even when each and every volunteer was very busy with the event. Ho wondered why these volunteers could be so happy doing such hard work when they did not even earn a penny for themselves from the bazaar. "I wondered what the secret was."

Over the last seven years, Ho has taken part in various kinds of activities held by Tzu Chi, such as Project Hope, a program to help erect about 2,000 prefabricated houses and rebuild over 50 schools in central Taiwan that had been damaged or destroyed by a major earthquake; the construction of dorms at the Abode of Still Thoughts; and various community service programs. Gradually, he found out that the secret to happiness lies in contentedness.

"It is a state of 'letting go' that needs to be achieved through spiritual cultivation," he explained. "Once you humble yourself and let go of all attachments, there will be no worry or anxiety in your mind." The more Ho gets involved in Tzu Chi activities, the more he respects the noble commitments that Master Cheng Yen has made to help the poor and educate the rich by motivating all her disciples to walk on the Path of the Bodhisattvas. The Master's commitments are something he would like to devote his whole life to understanding and helping put into practice.

Moreover, Ho introduced Tzu Chi to his wife, Cheng-cheng, who used to be fully occupied by work and house chores. She was also certified as a commissioner this year. She observed, "Tzu Chi has the amazing power to reform a person." Cheng-cheng said that what she most wants to learn in life is how to develop better relationships with people by refining herself in the big family of Tzu Chi.

Ho had always been an individualist, a "loner," ever since he was a child and even after he got married. In the eyes of his wife and two daughters, he used to be the "Lone Daddy." However, Ho now works together with other volunteers and his wife in many Tzu Chi activities. He is no longer a "loner" in the eyes of his family members.

The myocardial infarction experience reminded Ho of Hsiao Lau-lu, a Tzu Chi environmental protection volunteer who died many years ago. Hsiao was a senior citizen who lived alone. He dressed himself neatly every day and went out to do recycling work. However, he died of a heart attack one morning just as he was about to leave home for work. Like Hsiao, Ho used to be a stout man who never worried about his health. The illness that afflicted him five months ago was a sharp warning to him. He said that he has learned to care more about people around him since going through that near-death experience. "Instead of wondering how many years I have left to live, I should think about what contributions I can still make. The idea of doing good deeds should override personal concerns about death."

Two Cartons of Cigarettes

By Li Wei-huang
Translated by Katy Huang

Before he was certified as a Tzu Chi commissioner, Ho used to be a chain smoker who normally went through two packs of cigarettes a day. Sometimes when he woke up at night and could not find his cigarettes, he would light butts from his ashtray.

Knowing that he was so addicted, he comforted himself that he would only help a Tzu Chi commissioner to collect donations. (Commissioners are expected to be non-smokers.) Becoming a formal Tzu Chi commissioner was a distant dream for a chain smoker like him. "If I'm not a certified commissioner, I won't be criticized for smoking," he told himself.

Once when Ho went to a business meeting, his client knew he was involved with Tzu Chi fundraising events and expressed his interest in making a donation. Ho was happy to hear that and started talking about Tzu Chi. Without thinking, he took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and started to smoke. Startled and confused, his client asked him, "Don't you Tzu Chi people forbid smoking?" The question embarrassed Ho; he quickly put the cigarette out and left in a hurry.

Once on the street, he lit another cigarette. Some passing high school students muttered, "Ugh... How stinky!" Ho turned to cross the street. A kindergarten child standing behind him suddenly shouted to his mother, "That man in front of us smells bad, Mommy. Don't get too close to him..."

All these embarrassing experiences and negative comments prompted Ho to think seriously that it might be time for him to quit smoking.

The following day, a friend gave him two cartons of cigarettes as a present. Ho didn't refuse; instead, he regarded the gift as a test from the Buddha. He opened one pack and put it in his drawer to force himself to face the cigarettes every day.

A week later he told his wife that he had successfully quit smoking since he hadn't touched a cigarette in a whole week. In the ten years since then, he has never smoked again.