In August of 1997, my wife (a sister initiate) and I were suddenly inspired to explore the mountain area northeast of Mount Fang. Each time we passed by the mountain on the way to Taitung, off the eastern coast of Formosa, its majestic appearance and thick green foliage would captivate us. We wondered what wonderful scenery might be concealed beyond the mountain.

On that adventurous day, my wife and I set out on my motorbike. We reached a big valley, which happened to have been the riverbed of a stream that had dried up. The valley was rough and uneven, being covered with rocks and little bushes of all sizes. My 125-cc motorbike could hardly move on that rugged terrain. I could only choose to ride slowly on a more even track. After about an hour, the motorbike suddenly shook vigorously so we stopped to have a look. The front tire was punctured!

"This is unfortunate! What should we do?" my wife asked me worriedly. I shook my head, as I had no idea either. The sun was very hot and we were wet with perspiration. It was almost noon, so we put down the motorbike and found a cool place to have lunch and a rest. During lunch an idea suddenly crossed my mind: "Why don't we pray to Master for help? When we had run into trouble before, hadn't we always prayed to Master, and our problems were solved?"

After our prayer, I took a nap. We then pushed the bike forward on the rocky riverbed and switched on the engine for some auxiliary power. About a hundred meters later my wife and I were panting with exhaustion. After sitting down for a rest beneath a big tree, we went back to work, aiming for another big tree about one to two hundred meters ahead. When we reached this second target, we sat down again and ate some of the sugarcane that we had brought with us.

Just as we were beginning to bite down on the sugarcane, we heard the rumbling sound of a car approaching from the northeast. We sprung to our feet and looked around us. A small truck was moving slowly in our direction. It came to a halt right in front of us. The driver was a member of one of the indigenous tribes. Sitting beside him was a woman, probably his wife. "Is your motorbike kaput?" He asked.

"Yes. That 's right!" I answered promptly. "We were anxiously hoping that someone would come to help us!"

"So, indeed it's true," he said softly to himself. Then he turned towards us and said, "All right, let me get you out of here."

Overjoyed, we quickly tried to lift the bike onto the truck, but it was too heavy. How could we lift it up? Just as we were perplexed by this new problem, our indigenous friend cleared some things away on the truck and pushed a button. Suddenly the carriage started to incline backward. When the vehicle was steady he told me to switch on the engine of the bike. With his help, we easily pushed the bike onto the truck then secured it with ropes.

The truck moved slowly and shakily while I kept my motorbike steady. Questions arose in my mind to which I could not find the answers. What did the indigenous man mean by the words " So indeed it is true" when he first saw us? Such well-equipped and convenient trucks are scarce and why had he suddenly appeared in such a remote mountain area, just when we were desperate for help? When he first saw us, we were taking a rest and eating sugarcane under a tree and our motorbike looked brand new. How did he know that it was not working? I decided to ask him for the answers to my questions at a later time!

After about an hour, we reached a garage by the Ping-ER Highway. While the technician was repairing the punctured tire, I took the indigenous man to one side and asked him quietly, "My dear friend, just then when you met us, I think I heard you say 'Indeed it's true'. Can you tell me what you meant by that? How did you know that our motorbike needed repair and we needed help?"

He told me a story, "My wife and I were near an upper stream on Mount Fang. We seemed to hear a voice say, 'A couple has a punctured tire. They are stuck and need help. They are now waiting anxiously beneath the shade of a tree. When you are on your way home, please drive them out of the mountain.' Though somewhat skeptical, we immediately packed our things and drove down to see whether the message was true. Indeed it was, since we found you there."

"Oh, I see," I said as I nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "We are extremely grateful to you and your wife. You are really messengers sent by God. Without your timely help, I don't know how we could have gotten back from there!"

As I thanked him, I was so emotionally moved within that I could barely hold back my tears. Deep down in my heart, I prayed to heaven, "We thank You so much, Master."

Seeing a Buddha in Florida A Response to Every Prayer