Despite being afflicted with rheumatoid arthritis for the past 15 years, Chen Xue-ling never thinks of herself as a victim, or even a patient. Although her once agile limbs have been deformed by this devastating illness, she stays close to the people who need her and embraces them lovingly with her hands. Pain follows her like a shadow, but her smile continues to warm the hearts of countless people around her. Even though she is over 60 years old, this hardworking and perseverant woman continues to strive forward on her beloved path of charity.

A collection of yellowed newspaper clippings reflect over 40 years of memories, a historical record bringing us back to places and periods truly representative of a golden life. Most of the clippings recount Chen Xue-ling's accomplishments, such as the time she received first prize in a dance competition, represented Taiwan in a World Exposition, or promoted Chinese culture by dancing before a Thai king. One photograph shows her in a traditional Chinese costume, her fingers on the strings of a pipa. Although the newspaper clippings are brittle and yellow and the colors of the photographs have long since faded, it can be seen that Chen's bright countenance remains the same as it was all those years ago.

But time and disease have not been kind to this graceful dancer. She has suffered with rheumatoid arthritis for 15 years, and the joints in her limbs ache constantly, 24 hours a day, every day. Her twisted toes do not allow her to stand on tiptoe or to kneel down. Although they once carried her gracefully across the dance floor, the joints of her feet, altered by several surgeries, prevent her from walking normally. She cannot stand for long. In June 2004, she had an operation to remove all the finger joints in her left hand. This stopped the pain that had tormented her for years, but also stiffened the fingers in an extended position; she is unable to flex them anymore.

And yet, despite the physical hardships, Chen continues to inspire and encourage those around her through her courage and dedication. Although it is heartbreaking to see the previously beautiful fingers now deformed by disease and surgery, her only regret is that she can no longer bend her fingers to comb her hair in the traditional Tzu Chi manner. She may not be able to play the pipa any longer, but she can still write. If you observe her carefully, you will notice that she limps a little bit, but her gracefulness and determined will are as strong as iron. Her pet phrase is "No problem! No problem!" Her sweet smile, hearty laugh, and humble attitude make her the big sister, the good mother, and the dear friend of every Tzu Chi volunteer.

Chen Xue-ling is in charge of the Tzu Chi San Francisco office. She uses her loving hands to care for the suffering, to bring peace to worrying minds, and to promote the Tzu Chi missions in San Francisco and beyond.

Blessings are here

This spring morning in San Francisco is cold and damp, and despite the continual pain in her joints, Chen still manages to rise early. She meets friends outside her home, and she must first ask one to comb her hair and arrange her clothes. When all is ready, they head to the Dr. George Washington Carver Elementary School in Hunter's Point to distribute school uniforms to students.

Hunter's Point used to be a U.S. naval base, and many people were employed here during World War II. But when the base was closed in 1974, many people found themselves unemployed and were forced to move elsewhere. The area became a shantytown filled with criminals and drug dealers, and drug abuse and illegal arms trafficking were rampant. Tzu Chi volunteer Deng Lin-fei once parked her car there, and was stunned when a local child warned her that the tires on her car would be punctured before she could return. The area remained that way until the San Francisco city government stepped in with many redevelopment projects. Hunter's Point has since shed some of its criminal reputation, and the district has become livable once again.

In December 1997, Chen and other volunteers came to the school here for the first time to distribute uniforms. They have been coming back ever since. On this day, Principal Emily Wade-Thompson welcomed the volunteers at the door with her sweet smile and a group of eager students. Ninety percent of the students in the school come from low-income families, and many usually don't even have enough to eat. On this day, the principal had gathered twelve children from five families that did not have enough money to buy their uniforms. The principal had asked Tzu Chi to help these students so that they would not feel inferior for not dressing properly at school.

The uniform consists of a white shirt and a blue sweater on top, with deep-blue pants for the boys and skirts for the girls. The children's eyes sparkled as they received the beautiful uniforms from the Tzu Chi members. The Norma brothers immediately opened their bags, put on their new uniforms, and chatted with excitement about their "new look." The children smiled and thanked the volunteers repeatedly. Finally, the grateful students and the appreciative principal saw the volunteers off at the main door.

In this case, it was not just the children that received new uniforms that were blessed, but those giving the gifts as well. "We're so blessed to be able to give," said Chen. "We have to do more for them in the future."

Climbing a cliff

Chen's life story began in Taiwan, where fortune and blessings were showered on Chen constantly during her growing-up years.

She taught at a kindergarten after she graduated from a teachers' college. Having learned folk dancing while in college, she was able to teach the children to sing and dance. Taiwan was extremely poor 40 years ago, and Chen was forced to use a bedsheet as her dance skirt when she performed with other people on stage. Her passion for teaching dance prompted her to learn ballet, and she grew even more interested in composing and teaching the art of dancing to others.

She was recommended for admission to the Department of Adult and Continuing Education at the National Taiwan Normal University three years later, based upon her excellent work record and school grades. In her first year there, she won first place in the adult division at a national folk dance competition. Suddenly, Chen found herself to be the most popular person on campus.

After graduating from university in 1964, Chen traveled to Thailand to teach Chinese language and folk dancing. Her teaching was lively and yet serious, and her students loved and respected her. She took her dance students to perform everywhere, even performing before the king of Thailand. She and her students appeared constantly in the local newspapers.

Chen also taught the Chinese language to adults in Thailand. Her fame made her class very popular: one class had over 100 people! As she walked through the Chinatown district in Bangkok, many people would call out to her, "Taiwan Kulu! Taiwan Kulu!" The word "kulu" in the Thai language means "teacher."

Life in Thailand at that time brought her both fame and wealth, and she became the focus of attention wherever she went. This experience, which was to last four years, was the summit of her career. The money she earned there improved her family's financial standing back in Taiwan and also allowed her to study linguistics in the United States.

However, her plan to study linguistics in America did not go as smoothly as she had planned. Just before her classes were to begin, she received the bad news that one of her relatives had lost his business in Taiwan. Chen courageously chose to postpone her studies and to send all her money back to Taiwan to help the unfortunate relative. With no money, Chen went to work in a restaurant to earn her living.

In the beginning, Chen didn't even know the correct way to bring dishes out to the customers. Watching her run back and forth between the kitchen and the tables to bring out the dishes one by one, some customers would generously give her extra tips. When she returned home exhausted at night, she would often think back to "the good life" in Thailand. She could not stop the tears that such memories would bring to her eyes.

Falling into hell

After much hard work, she finally received her master's degree in linguistics and was hired to teach Chinese at the University of Maryland. It was during this time, in 1975, that Chen returned to Taiwan to visit her family. There she was introduced to Liang Zi-zhong, who was working in Hawaii. Chen was 37 years old and Liang was 45. They got married in Hawaii the following year and moved to San Francisco. Chen resigned from her post at the University of Maryland and became a full-time housewife to look after her husband and newborn daughter.

When her only daughter entered kindergarten, Chen went to work as a marketing director for a cosmetic company. "The job was very interesting: teaching other people how to care for their skin made me feel like a teacher again." Her positive attitude and determined spirit resulted in a customer base of several hundred within just a few short years. Her success did not go unnoticed by her employers. At one annual meeting, in front of thousands of employees, the company awarded her the title of Queen for her outstanding sales record.

"It was like standing on a stage where people crowned you and gave you bouquets," remembers Chen, who carried the title as though she had just been named Miss Chinatown.

Just as it was when she taught at the university in Thailand, she always did her best and succeeded in all of her endeavors. She again climbed to the top of her life, this time when she was 50 years old.

But this second round of success was cut short when Chen unexpectedly fell ill in 1991. It began with pain in her wrists; soon all the joints throughout her body were in pain. Even her jaw was affected--eating became a painful ordeal as she couldn't open her mouth wide enough to admit a piece of bread.

The doctor diagnosed her with rheumatoid arthritis, a chronic disease of the joints that causes stiffness, swelling, weakness, loss of mobility, and eventual destruction and deformity of the joints. Once diagnosed, there was no going back: the doctor informed her that the disease couldn't be cured completely and would only go on to attack other body functions later.

In less than two years, her four limbs had become deformed and useless as the joints swelled up and became stiff. Even wearing shoes was out of the question.

Where Chen once lived an active life, she was now barely able to walk. Before, she could dance beautifully and play musical instruments with ease. Neither was possible now. Weighed down and depressed, the disease was almost too much for Chen to bear. Thoughts of suicide entered her head, but she just could not tolerate the thought of leaving her husband and daughter behind.

A beam of hope

While Chen was confined to bed one day, a friend brought her a copy of Master Cheng Yen's Tzu Chi World to read. Chen was deeply touched by what she read, especially the "No work, no meal" motto practiced by the nuns at the Abode of Still Thoughts. Tzu Chi volunteer Yang Mi-mi brought her more Tzu Chi publications. When Chen first received a copy of Still Thoughts by Master Cheng Yen, she read it throughout the night and reflected upon her life. The book brought her a new understanding and a deeper insight into her life.

After suffering from her illness and reflecting on her life, the Master's maxim, "Make the best use of your abilities," seemed to speak directly to Chen. "I might not be able to move around freely, but my head is very clear," Chen told herself. "I can still do something useful." Then and there, she knelt down to pray before the statue of a bodhisattva and vowed that she would give of herself to the needy if only she could somehow be freed from the torture of her illness.

Her sincere vow soon brought her good results. She found a good doctor who helped her manage her illness and reduce her pain. She also began to gradually regain limited use of her joints. Remembering her vow, she joined Tzu Chi at the end of 1994, when the Tzu Chi San Francisco office was founded.

Chen first visited the Abode of Still Thoughts in February 1995. Master Cheng Yen was about to embark upon a tour around Taiwan, so Chen and several other volunteers were allowed to tag along.

Before departing, several of the volunteers were talking to the Master. One entrepreneur said, "Master, you don't have a good car to ride in. May I give you one?" Unexpectedly, the Master reminded the entrepreneur that Nepal was suffering from huge rainstorms at the time, and over 400,000 people had become homeless. To the Master, raising funds to build houses for flood victims was more urgent than buying a good car for herself. The Master explained to the entrepreneur that building one house for the homeless cost NT$70,000 (US$2,220). Instead of buying an automobile for the Master, the entrepreneur then donated US$66,600 to help build 30 houses in Nepal.

Eventually, the tour stopped at the Tzu Chi Taipei office. An 80-year-old man who lived in a nursing home in Taipei was waiting patiently for the Master by the front door of the office. When the Master approached him, he slowly drew out US$4,000 from his pocket and with shaking hands donated it to the Master. The generous old man had earned the money, one dollar at a time, by fetching boiled drinking water every morning for other residents of the same nursing home. He had been slowly saving for many years.

"Donations to Tzu Chi come from people who earn their money with blood and sweat, so we have to be extremely careful with everything we do and every penny we spend." The Master's unselfish affirmation and the devotion of her disciples moved Chen very deeply.

A new stage

After witnessing so many good deeds done by ordinary people, Chen began to understand that the more people devote themselves to volunteer work, the less they sense the anguish and suffering within their own bodies and minds.

Chen still vividly remembers the first poor person she visited. The man was paralyzed from the neck down and was confined to bed 24 hours a day. He told the volunteers that his only wish was to one day stand up again.

This visit truly opened Chen's eyes. She had thought that it was she who was giving to others, but here she received a revelation from this man--at least she was able to move around and offer her help to others. "In comparison to this man, I'm healthier and luckier! The pain in my joints is nothing!" With this new understanding came an even greater commitment to serve others through the work of Tzu Chi.

During this time, an old friend noticed how devoted Chen was to serving others through her volunteer work despite her advancing age and the difficulties caused by her deformed joints. The friend was so impressed that he also decided to join Tzu Chi and become a volunteer. This incident made Chen realize that her ailing body actually had a positive influence on other people. She was further encouraged to be even more diligent in her work. What she had once considered a weakness could in fact be used as a strength in motivating others.

Chen assumed leadership of the Tzu Chi San Francisco office in 1998, and she diligently upholds the Master's counsel: "The head of the office needs to manage with virtue by setting a good example for others to follow." These are not empty words for Chen, but a way of life. In spite of her pain, she always takes the lead in sweeping streets, designing entertaining programs, and writing activity journals. She is always the last one to leave the office, staying to clean up after the others have left. Even her twisted fingers do not stop her from picking up a wiper to clean the washrooms.

There is no end to Chen's dedication to Tzu Chi and helping others. During one difficult time, her illness sapped the strength from both of her hands and prevented her from driving. She felt dreadful having to rely on other volunteers to bring her to and from the office, and chose instead to endure the pain and drive herself, even though the trip took two hours. Rain or shine, she is determined to do Tzu Chi work.

Embodiment of beauty

Chen has many merits and talents. She is very perceptive, wise, and loving. Her hearty laugh and gentle gestures never fail to bring sunshine to people around her. She waves her hands and feet like a big happy child when she praises other volunteers for their work. Her innocence truly touches the hearts of those around her. For example, whenever she sees someone make a mistake, she says, "That's okay, that's okay." Her gentle consolation makes the person feel warm and, at the same time, encourages the person to be more attentive the next time.

Su Su-hui, a fellow volunteer, remarks that she has never seen Chen lose her temper. She describes her as a kind mother, a gentle big sister, and a good friend to the rest of the team. Su feels fortunate to have Chen in Tzu Chi and admires her courage in doing Tzu Chi work with her ailing body. All the volunteers feel sorry for Chen's physical condition, but she does not take advantage of such pity; in fact, she never backs down, but is determined to share the work with everyone else.

Su has never seen or heard Chen crying due to her constant discomfort. One day, Su saw Chen rubbing her waist and knees, her eyebrows knitted together in pain. When Su approached her, Chen simply smiled at her, waved her away, and insisted that she was okay.

Chen's determination and dedication are not limited to the Tzu Chi office. At home, she is a successful wife and mother. When her husband, Liang Zi-zhong, was hospitalized in 1999, Chen was at his bedside around the clock to look after him. He was impressed by how many other volunteers came by to visit him. Moved by their example, Liang joined Tzu Chi as a volunteer after recovering from his illness.

Chen's daughter, Mei-lin, has inherited her mother's merits and talents. Mei-lin has received her doctoral degree in law and is a certified lawyer. In her free time, she also participates in Tzu Chi activities. Mei-lin's hearty laughter, like her mother's, is like a spring breeze to other people.

The Tzu Chi San Francisco office turned 11 years old in 2005. The volunteers' long-term devotion to the community has won them much recognition and many awards. On February 14, 2002, they received two plaques from California Governor Gray Davis and San Francisco Mayor Willy Brown. These awards recognized the love and service of Tzu Chi around the world and in San Francisco. Mayor Brown also named that day "San Francisco Tzu Chi Day." In September 2002, Tzu Chi was the only private organization invited to attend the city's memorial service for victims of the September 11 terrorist attack. In 2004, the Tzu Chi office joined the municipal government's emergency rescue center. Tzu Chi volunteers are now allowed and encouraged to attend meetings and associated emergency training.

Tzu Chi volunteers also participate in a street-sweeping program set up by the city government. Their orderly processions, attentive attitude, and continuous support year after year have won them compliments from the city government and local business owners. Needless to say, San Francisco is a more beautiful city due to the hard work of each Tzu Chi volunteer.

Pain and blessings

Chen's volunteer work is woven into the very history of Tzu Chi in San Francisco. She is a participant in every activity, and her hope is that the larger society within the United States can accept Master Cheng Yen's ideals of Great Love and gratitude and join with Tzu Chi to help the needy.

Rheumatoid arthritis, her constant companion for the past 15 years, has brought to a close Chen's ability to dance and play as she did in her younger years. Pain, lack of mobility, and deformities are a way of life now for Chen. And yet, from another perspective, the disease has resulted in blessings as well. Tzu Chi has become Chen's life force. Tzu Chi activities give her a reason to grit her teeth and get up in the morning in spite of her pain. There are so many things waiting for her to do that she refuses to let herself be beaten by the illness.

Chen now has a stronger zeal and more complete understanding of life. In the past, she had a bad temper and often spoke to others in a loud, harsh voice. Now, her voice and demeanor are soft and gentle. In the past, her illness drove her to thoughts of suicide; now, she gives thanks to the bodhisattva for giving her less pain in her right hand. With this hand, she is able to write and record her thoughts. With less pain in that hand, she can also drive to the office and to various activities. In the midst of the clouds of suffering, Chen is able to see the sunshine of blessing and hope.

Even though traditional Chinese medicine has helped alleviate and slow the progress of her illness, Chen is aware that life is impermanent. She is advancing in years and doesn't know when the disease will relapse. But her spirit shines through, as she courageously claims, "I want to grab every second to do Tzu Chi missions as I count down to the end of my life."