The following are excerpts from a speech delivered to the Foreign Language Team at the Abode of Still Thoughts on May 15, 1997.

My fellow practitioners,

Welcome back to the Abode. Today I am going to talk about life and death.

Tzu Chi is a place for us to walk on the Path of the Bodhisattvas. More than just a charity organization, it is also a place to train bodhisattvas in the human world. We want to train people to have the spirit of the bodhisattvas and a perfect character. Therefore, our hearts must be large enough to accommodate the whole universe. We must try to understand Buddha's teachings and then abide by them and put them into practice. Buddha told us that life is impermanent and the land is fragile. How true it is!

The Story of Master Shinran

There is a story from Japan. A nine-year-old boy went to a temple one day and begged the master to help him shave his head so that he could become a monk.

"Why do you want to become a monk at such a young age?" asked the master.

"I have had no father since I was born. My mother died a few years ago, and now I am alone. I see that other children have parents. How lucky they are! Maybe after I become a monk and study the law of cause and effect, I will be able to find out why I could not have my parents for a longer time."

"You are quite wise," said the master. "I accept you as my disciple and I will shave your head tomorrow."

"No, not tomorrow," begged the child. "Please shave it now."

"Why are you in such a hurry? It's only a few hours until tomorrow."

"A child quickly changes his mind. Maybe tomorrow I won't want to become a monk. Besides, you are so old and life is so short. We don't know whether you will still be alive tomorrow. We should grasp every moment, shouldn't we?"

The master was astonished that such a small child should know about the impermanence of life. So he shaved the boy's head immediately. That boy later became the famous Master Shinran, a man of wisdom.

Birth and Death Are Not Important

I always say that birth and death are not important. What is important is the period in between. Some people say birth and death are great events. My interpretation is that great events happen between birth and death.

Life begins with learning how to be a good person, how to study, how to get along with others. In the process of learning to be a good person, we must practice, choose our interests, and learn to sacrifice. So, through elementary school, junior middle school and high school, we begin to choose the goals of our life. Some hope to be doctors to save people, some want to be teachers to educate people, some want to be engineers to build beautiful buildings.

Whatever goals we choose, we should do our jobs well and play our roles properly with conscience, ability, and loving hearts. A doctor must have love, altruism and skill. A teacher must also have love and teach other people's children as his own. An engineer builds houses based on his professional ethics. To sum up, each one must fulfill his duty in his life. However, people frequently succumb to temptations and forget their good nature and their duty.

A Man Who Knew How to Die

Recently, the Tzu Chi cable TV program reported the story of Li Ho-cheng [see story on page 58]. Mr. Li was someone who knew how to die. One day at work, he didn't feel very well, so he went to the hospital to have a checkup. The result was that he had pancreatic cancer. He didn't panic when he heard the bad news. He kept on working, and he received treatment at the same time.

Several months later, the doctor told him he only had three months to live. He remained calm and decided to donate his body to the Tzu Chi College of Medicine.

Mr. Li retired from his job and came to the Abode of Still Thoughts the following day. It was lunchtime. I met him and his wife at the door of the dining room. They prostrated themselves in front of me. I asked what brought them to the Abode. He told me that he wanted to check into the Tzu Chi Hospital. He didn't look sick, so I asked him if he wanted to get a checkup. When he told me that he wanted to check into the Heart Lotus Ward for terminally ill patients, I thought he was joking. Then I realized he was serious.

After lunch, he went to the hospital. Two days later I visited him in the Heart Lotus Ward. When he heard my voice, he got out of bed.

"How do you feel these days?" I asked him.

"It's so nice to come back home to Tzu Chi," he said.

"You must cooperate with the doctor. However the doctor wants to treat you, you must accept it."

"I must take good care of my body. I want to give you a complete body for the medical college."

"How are you going to take care of your body?"

"First, I don't want to have any operation. Secondly I don't want radiotherapy. This way, I can keep a complete body for you, so that the medical students can learn more."

"You are really calm about this."

"Yes, I have listened to so many of your sermons."

"You can do volunteer work in the hospital." "In fact, I am going to take other patients out to have a little sunshine this afternoon."

"Right, your volunteering here will be more effective than anything we could do, for your words are more convincing to the patients."

So he stayed in the Heart Lotus Ward. Each time I went into his ward, he was always neatly dressed, smiling and optimistic. I was able to say to him that he must come back soon after he passed away. He would reply, "Yes, I will come back soon." He was so peaceful and calm. He really understood life and death.

It happened that some students from the Tzu Chi College of Medicine were doing volunteer work in the hospital at that time. I said to them, "My children, the body that you see on the anatomy table cannot speak. Would you like to see a body that can speak?" They were happy to see him. Then I said to Mr. Li, "You have made up your mind to donate your body. I hope you will say a few words to these students while you still can." He happily accepted my suggestion. About 70 students went to the Heart Lotus Ward to hear him speak.

At the end of 1996, I had to tour around the island to attend the year-end parties at the branch offices and to certify new commissioners and new members of the Tzu Cheng Faith Corps. Mr. Li told me he wanted to be my disciple and to become an honorary board member. He hoped that I could personally certify him before I left on my trip. He was afraid that he would die before my return to the Abode. So I certified him as an honorary board member and formally accepted him as my disciple.

Then I asked him whether he had anything to say to me. He said, "I would like to take a picture with you under the painting of the lotus flower."

I said, "All right, get in your wheelchair and come with me."

"No, I'll walk there with you." And he really did! Under the painting, he chose the angle and we had the picture taken together.

Afterwards, I said to him, "One must die peacefully. Since you are very calm and tranquil, we can talk about life and death in front of you. I hope you can spread this spirit in the Heart Lotus Ward."

As Natural as Sleeping

It is natural for people to live and to die. We must regard death as a natural, peaceful thing. When we feel tired after a day's work, we naturally lie down to sleep. We may have dreams in our sleep. When our souls leave our bodies, it's just like a dream. When we leave the world naturally, not intentionally, we feel we are floating in the air. In Buddhism, we call sleep a small death. Most people say that death is a long sleep. When we wake up after a long sleep, it's the beginning of another life, just like after a night's sleep we wake up to another day. Therefore, death is nothing to be afraid of. People are scared because they don't know the proper way to die.

"When your final day comes, you just close your eyes," I said to Mr. Li. "When your soul leaves your body, there might be a lot of people around you chanting 'Amitabha' for you. Never mind that. You just say to them, 'Good-bye, I'll be back very soon.'"

When I came back from my tour, Mr. Li was still alive. He dressed himself neatly and came to see me. I told him that he looked very good. He was very happy to see me again. Two days before he passed away, I asked the nurse about his situation. The nurse told me he was fine and didn't feel any pain. She also said that he had told them he would live for two more days. He had said that for the last few days, whenever he closed his eyes, he felt he was floating lightly in the air through a vast, open space. He felt a little lonely, so he asked his wife and children to stay with him. He also phoned his best friends in Taipei to come see him.

When I went to see him, his friends were beside him. When Mr. Li heard my voice, he sat up straight and smiled happily. I took his hand and said, "I will always hold your hand. You are not alone. Let us light up the road together to show others the way."

"I know. Please don't worry, Master."

The night before he passed way, he said to his wife, "It was very hard for you to stay with me the past few months. I am very grateful to you. Thank you very much." His wife said, "It was the least I could do. You know we all love you very much. You can go in peace." He hugged his wife and patted her on her back. Then he fell asleep.

The next morning, they didn't want to wake him up because he was sleeping so soundly. Around 7:30 in the morning, his wife felt it a little strange that he had slept for so long. She touched him. His body was still warm, but there was no pulse at all. She called a doctor. The doctor said he had already passed away. It was just that peaceful and calm.

Mr. Li was a man who knew the proper way to die. Before he left, he wanted to become an honorary board member, he vowed that he would be a Tzu Chi man in all his lives to come, and he wanted to take good care of his body. Even when he had difficulty breathing, he refused to have his windpipe cut open because he wanted to keep a complete body for the medical students.