|  Recently,
I had an opportunity to once again visit the International
Garden at the Hsihu Center, Formosa, clean up the environment,
and take care of the plants there. A panoramic view of the
garden showed a colorful sea of garden balsams and green vines
climbing all over. The beautiful scenery in the garden was
too much for the eye to take in.
In
my return to the holy land, I saw reminders of Master's presence
everywhere. Memories of every little episode that had occurred
when Master and disciples were there together warmed and touched
my heart. Initially, the International Garden was part of
the camping area for women residents at Hsihu. After the female
disciples moved, one day, one of Master's attendants delivered
the message that Master wanted us to grow flowers and plants
there, and to leave room for rest and meditation beneath the
trees and in the floral landscape. The assignment was to be
completed within a week.
We,
the several little pumpkins, had just received onsite horticultural
training in the garden adjacent to Master's office. We had
learned how to cultivate flowers and plants, and to design
beautiful landscapes as if they were forms of natural growth.
Although we were thrilled by the experience of receiving personal
guidance from Master, and delighted that we had the new skill
of beatifying the environment for our own good use, we were
surprised to have to hand in our report cards so quickly.
And we had only seven days to cover such a huge area. How
could this handful of little pumpkins accomplish this task?
Don't
be worried for us, though. We all know that Master's instructions
always tally with God's will. We were convinced then that
something special would happen that would help us with the
assignment. Indeed, as we had expected, the assignment schedule
coincided with an International Seven-day Retreat. Thousands
of Bodhisattvas arrived from all over the world and gathered
in Hsihu. Thus, whenever we called for help, hundreds of fellow
initiates from various countries would pitch in to work. We
took charge of specific areas and divided the work among ourselves.
Truck after truck arrived, carrying exotic flowers and rare
plants from the local nurseries. Effortlessly, we worked and
designed at the same time. It was as though we already had
a blueprint, and we only had to follow the landscape design
and get whatever was required for each site. Even big and
little rocks were brought to be set in just the right places.
It was indeed unbelievably romantic.
There
is a story that few people know about the placement of rocks
in the International Garden. As I was in charge of a selected
spot at the time, I followed Master's instructions by placing
rocks under the trees. Some huge rocks had been pulled and
rolled over to their designated spots. Fellow initiates performing
the labor were wet with perspiration and gasping for breath.
When we were working on getting the very last rock to the
farthest position, it rolled and stopped right next to the
ideal spot. A tree had been planted there, its branches slanting
upward at an angle that would make anyone sitting on the rock
feel uncomfortable. I knew that it required little effort
to put the rock in the most perfect position, but somehow,
I called it a day.
Later,
every time I walked by the tree, I would be troubled by that
imperfection and feel the urge to move the big rock. As days
passed, the thought continued to trouble me. Then, one day,
I came to work in the International Garden again. My goodness!
How could the rock have read my mind? It had moved to the
perfect position, and in one night's time! I had never mentioned
how I felt to anyone. The resident disciples could not have
moved it. The matter remained on my mind for several days
before one of the attendants told me that Master had come
to rest under the tree some time earlier. When She saw that
the rock was placed in a less than ideal position, She asked
the attendants to move the rock to another side. It was really
embarrassing. How could I have troubled Master to solve problems
for me again!
On
several occasions, I had not been able to persist to the very
last minute or to perform my work to the very best level.
Each time, I resorted to such habitual excuses as "I feel
shy about troubling others," "The passable is good enough,"
or "Just a little imperfection is acceptable." Sometimes,
I overlooked certain details. For example, when we were paving
the International Garden with little white stones, I was filled
with pride in the thought that I was creative and romantic
in my approach and was finding a good use for things that
might have been trashed otherwise. But Master taught me something
very important that I had overlooked: White rocks under the
bright sunlight produce an uncomfortable glare that hurts
people's eyes. Things would have been much more perfect had
I considered these factors as well.
 Who is Calling
Whom?
Sometimes,
we need to have the same little lesson over and over again
before we actually learn it. Similarly, when Master wants
to bless us, She has to create several opportunities for us
before we actually receive the blessings.
Once,
Master was preparing to travel overseas. I was performing
the duty of an operator at the time. Therefore, She asked
me to call and remind Her of Her trip at eleven o'clock the
next morning. Since it was a sister initiate's turn to be
operator the next day, I asked her to call Master, and she
did. However, she told me later that Master was not very happy
when She had received the call. I was a bit perplexed, but
thought little about it.
After
some time, Master returned to Formosa and again prepared to
go abroad. She instructed me again to call and remind Her
at a certain time, and added, "I asked you to call. It is
not the same when someone else calls. Do you understand?"
I did not quite understand. I thought Master was unhappy because
I had asked someone else to do it the previous time. So, I
followed Her instructions this time. Later, I found that my
bad habit of oversleeping had greatly improved, and I no longer
became dead to the world when I fell asleep. I always used
to be late for the morning group meditation, but now I could
get up at midnight to meditate if I wanted to. I truly appreciate
Master's blessings.
Another Kind of Ego
One
day, prior to the release of Master's "Wu Tze Poetry", the
books arrived and Master was delighted at the exquisite publication.
However, there was one imperfection: The photos did not have
any captions. The weekly group meditation for initiates throughout
Formosa was to be held the next day. Some revisions had to
be made on the new book before it was released. Master called
the women residents' office to discuss the captions with me.
I had just had tea in Master's quarters, and this was the
first time I had had the opportunity to work with manuscripts.
My heart soared into the air. Light-headed, I felt excited
and proud.
However,
I made so many mistakes working with Master that She ran out
of patience with me. Master was at a loss, and I heard Her
ask from my end of the line, "What is wrong with you?" Apologetically,
I repeated, "How could I have been so stupid?" Later, Master
said, "It was not stupidity. It was the ego. You were being
used just a little, and you felt terrific. That was why you
could not do a good job. So let others do the work now!"
Thus,
my first assignment with manuscript work ended almost as soon
as it had begun. However, it was this experience that led
me to truly understand how the ego interferes even when I
feel a little happy and proud in my work. This is a very subtle
trap. I must thank Master for helping me to realize the truth.
Lesson in Gentleness
In
our monastic group, I am well known for my temper, and my
relationship with others is often rocky. One afternoon, Master
called and asked the head nun and myself to go to Her office
with pens and paper after dinner, and we did.
When
we arrived, Master was doing some other work. She asked us
to sit wherever we liked, and told an attendant to offer us
plum cakes and tea and that we should eat them first. After
She had finished Her work, She came over to sit with us, talking
to us just like an elder sister. She probably sensed that
I was being too serious as I straightened my clothes and sat
properly. She chatted with us about trivial daily matters,
commenting on how dignified and warm our clothes were and
how good our complexion was. She also asked if we wanted more
tea or cakes. I had not eaten any cakes, and She asked me,
"Do you want to take some with you?" I took the soft tissue
that Master handed me, wrapped the cakes, and put them in
my pocket. Then, Master suddenly spoke to the head nun, "The
little pumpkin is quite gentle!" The head nun almost choked
on her tea and tried to contain her laughter. Since she did
not respond, I said to Master in great embarrassment, "That's
not true. I have a very quick temper!" Master said to me with
a smile, "How come you have the same weakness as mine?" I
answered, "How can I compare with You?"
Since
then, whenever I, the little pumpkin, feel my temper flare
up, I have remembered Master's hint, "The little pumpkin is
indeed quite gentle!" Then my anger is at least half cooled,
and my patience grows instead. I can better understand others'
situations, and I have become more and more gentle and compatible
with others. Gentleness can indeed change our angry hearts.
Thank
You, Master, for Your patience in helping me understand myself
more and more. Thank You for bearing with the obstructions
of our bad habits. Let us pray that God will bless us so we
can grow up quickly and become one with You sooner.
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