At 3:30 in the afternoon on September 11, I joined the education team on a trip to Bakraur village. My mission was to document their weekly Tzu Chi class, conducted outdoors under the shade of a tree. During our journey in three tuk-tuks I observed lively scenes of children playing and frolicking outdoors and groups of women either seated in front of houses or holding small children.

When we arrived, I asked Sister Yaw Ah Moi, the education team’s coordinator, “Where are the participants of our class?” Without hesitation, she replied, “We’ll go find them!” The team swiftly sprang into action, going from house to house, inviting women and children to join our class. Some volunteers planned to teach the women how to sew scrunchies, while others would engage children in group activities. In just a short time, they had successfully gathered about 50 adults and children.

Seeing their proactive efforts to locate students left me utterly speechless. As a retired teacher, I was accustomed to children coming to class, not teachers actively seeking students. The education team’s enthusiastic spirit and proactive approach immediately won me over.

A different scene unfolded when I followed the education team to Silaunja village on the afternoon of September 15 for similar activities. Just before reaching our destination, Sister Yaw shared with me that when the team first started classes in the village, the tree they had chosen for their sessions didn’t provide enough shade. Consequently, the team made the decision to take the students and move deeper into the village in search of a larger, cooler tree under which to hold their classes.

However, when the team invited the children to move further into the village with them, their mothers hesitated. The mothers voiced concerns about the residents in the rear part of the village belonging to a lower social class than those in the front. As a result, the mothers were unwilling to let their children play with those in the back. Subsequently, each time the team passed through the village to reach the rear area for a class, the children who couldn’t participate could only watch eagerly as the team passed through.

When we arrived on the 15th, the children in the back of the village immediately held their chins with both hands, making the “Happy Face” gesture taught to them by Tzu Chi volunteers. The youngsters gathered under a tree and cheerfully participated in the group activities led by the education team. They obediently followed directions, jumping to the right, left, up, and down.

Our team shared an animated video recounting the tale, “The Elephant That Saved a Girl’s Life,” told by Master Cheng Yen. Volunteers Tan Lee Ting (陳麗婷) and Rozi Parween each held a laptop, playing the video, while Rozi explained the story in the children’s dialect.

These children hailed from families with modest means, and their homes typically had only essential items, such as beds and cooking ware. Since their families likely didn’t own televisions or cell phones, watching the video must have been fun for them. Every child stared intently at the small laptop screens. We weren’t certain if they fully grasped the story or not, but their focused expressions touched our hearts.

Regrettably, rain started to fall midway through the activity. Both adults and children scattered, some running back home, others seeking shelter in an empty house near the tree. After the rain subsided, everyone emerged from their shelters. Suddenly, Sister See Paik Lan (施依伶) slipped and fell on the slippery ground. Three more volunteers slipped in succession, getting their clothes and shoes covered in mud. The children, amused by the scene, erupted into laughter, which sparked laughter among the nearby adults as well. The four volunteers, caught up in the mirth and light-hearted atmosphere, momentarily forgot the awkwardness of their now mud-stained shoes and clothes.

As we were leaving the village, Sister See stopped me and said, “Yu-xian, this child has been holding my hand since I fell. It seems he’s afraid that I might fall again.” I turned around and captured this moment with my phone. I then asked Rozi to inquire on my behalf why the child was holding Sister See’s hand. The boy explained that in the video he watched earlier, when the big waves came, the little elephant saved the little girl, so he wanted to “save” Sister See too. This response deeply touched everyone. Isn’t this the best proof of the adage, “The mind, the Buddha, and living beings—there is no difference among these three”?

At 3:30 in the afternoon on September 11, I joined the education team on a trip to Bakraur village. My mission was to document their weekly Tzu Chi class, conducted outdoors under the shade of a tree. During our journey in three tuk-tuks I observed lively scenes of children playing and frolicking outdoors and groups of women either seated in front of houses or holding small children.

When we arrived, I asked Sister Yaw Ah Moi, the education team’s coordinator, “Where are the participants of our class?” Without hesitation, she replied, “We’ll go find them!” The team swiftly sprang into action, going from house to house, inviting women and children to join our class. Some volunteers planned to teach the women how to sew scrunchies, while others would engage children in group activities. In just a short time, they had successfully gathered about 50 adults and children.

Seeing their proactive efforts to locate students left me utterly speechless. As a retired teacher, I was accustomed to children coming to class, not teachers actively seeking students. The education team’s enthusiastic spirit and proactive approach immediately won me over.

A different scene unfolded when I followed the education team to Silaunja village on the afternoon of September 15 for similar activities. Just before reaching our destination, Sister Yaw shared with me that when the team first started classes in the village, the tree they had chosen for their sessions didn’t provide enough shade. Consequently, the team made the decision to take the students and move deeper into the village in search of a larger, cooler tree under which to hold their classes.

However, when the team invited the children to move further into the village with them, their mothers hesitated. The mothers voiced concerns about the residents in the rear part of the village belonging to a lower social class than those in the front. As a result, the mothers were unwilling to let their children play with those in the back. Subsequently, each time the team passed through the village to reach the rear area for a class, the children who couldn’t participate could only watch eagerly as the team passed through.

When we arrived on the 15th, the children in the back of the village immediately held their chins with both hands, making the “Happy Face” gesture taught to them by Tzu Chi volunteers. The youngsters gathered under a tree and cheerfully participated in the group activities led by the education team. They obediently followed directions, jumping to the right, left, up, and down.

Our team shared an animated video recounting the tale, “The Elephant That Saved a Girl’s Life,” told by Master Cheng Yen. Volunteers Tan Lee Ting (陳麗婷) and Rozi Parween each held a laptop, playing the video, while Rozi explained the story in the children’s dialect.

These children hailed from families with modest means, and their homes typically had only essential items, such as beds and cooking ware. Since their families likely didn’t own televisions or cell phones, watching the video must have been fun for them. Every child stared intently at the small laptop screens. We weren’t certain if they fully grasped the story or not, but their focused expressions touched our hearts.

Regrettably, rain started to fall midway through the activity. Both adults and children scattered, some running back home, others seeking shelter in an empty house near the tree. After the rain subsided, everyone emerged from their shelters. Suddenly, Sister See Paik Lan (施依伶) slipped and fell on the slippery ground. Three more volunteers slipped in succession, getting their clothes and shoes covered in mud. The children, amused by the scene, erupted into laughter, which sparked laughter among the nearby adults as well. The four volunteers, caught up in the mirth and light-hearted atmosphere, momentarily forgot the awkwardness of their now mud-stained shoes and clothes.

As we were leaving the village, Sister See stopped me and said, “Yu-xian, this child has been holding my hand since I fell. It seems he’s afraid that I might fall again.” I turned around and captured this moment with my phone. I then asked Rozi to inquire on my behalf why the child was holding Sister See’s hand. The boy explained that in the video he watched earlier, when the big waves came, the little elephant saved the little girl, so he wanted to “save” Sister See too. This response deeply touched everyone. Isn’t this the best proof of the adage, “The mind, the Buddha, and living beings—there is no difference among these three”?