An Unexpected Harvest

Two months into the semester, our study group submitted our first set of knowledge-point summaries, each written by its own member. To my surprise, while I had submitted a 10,000-character article, the most prolific male member of the group submitted one of over 15,000 characters. He looked up materials in the library and summarized the content of the chapter he was responsible for extremely well. In fact, from the meeting where we formed the group and assigned the first writing task to the submission, only 10 days had passed. The other classmates also submitted sizable pieces; among those I have seen so far, another girl wrote more than 8,000 characters.

I had thought that these children, who had only just graduated from high school, would turn in rather mediocre first articles—at least limited in length—because they had not received such training in high school. The result was unexpectedly good: the quality of what they wrote was not at all poor, and they organized many things we cannot learn in the classroom. The boy who wrote 15,000 characters told me that, in the process of writing, he felt very fulfilled and happy.

This boy is introverted and not good with words. One day in late September, for the first time he timidly followed behind a few of us to the library, not even daring to speak to us on his own initiative. That day, when the library closed and we came out together, it was raining outside and he had no umbrella. My umbrella was large enough to cover two people, so I invited him to share it on the way back to the dorm, and only then did we start talking.

On the way he chatted with me, his voice very low and his speech halting; five or six of every ten sentences I could not understand. But I caught his general meaning: this child was expressing to me his admiration and respect for an uncle who, with the courage to take the college entrance exam together with them and come here to study alongside them, wanted to learn together with me. That day two other boys were also in the library with me; compared with those two, he was much more timid. I was of course happy to have another companion, so I welcomed him.

Later, when I recruited study-group members, he signed up. His family circumstances were poor and he had no computer of his own, so I helped him set one up. During the writing process he asked me several times, hoping I would explain the writing requirements more clearly. Halfway through writing, he also showed me parts of his own draft, asking me to check whether there were problems. In completing this group assignment, he was the member who communicated with me the most.

Seeing how eager he was to learn, I patiently guided him on how better to look up the literature and write, praised his diligence and composure, and encouraged him. At the same time I gave him some new reference materials and asked him to try broadening his thinking a little more. The boy did everything as told, and the richness of the article he finally produced was truly beyond what I myself could manage. I have so many administrative tasks that I cannot devote myself to this work as single-mindedly as he did.

Last night I set a further requirement for him: I invited him, starting this week, to study one hour longer each day than the other classmates. Our normal evening self-study ends at 8:40; I asked him to stay in the classroom with me until 9:40 before returning to the dorm, and he agreed. I gave him a new challenge: based on an outline I listed, on the topic of "appendicitis," he should look up materials from many angles in the library and summarize the various kinds of knowledge about this disease into a standard paper. For a medical student only two months into medical school, this is no easy task. I promised him I would guide him throughout, and he took on the task.

Last night I spoke with him privately. I hoped that, after he finished this article on appendicitis, he would start his own content channel, publish all the articles he writes at school on it, learn to run his own channel, and plan his career well. From this moment on, he should pursue lifelong learning and keep writing for the rest of his life—or at least persist in this throughout his studies and work for the next ten years. He was a bit timid, worried he could not do it well. I promised I would help him start this process and supervise him in forming the habit during his time at school, and I told him this would be enormously meaningful for his whole life. After hearing my analysis, the boy agreed.

I plan not only to help him this way but also to help the other members of the group. But, for one thing, my time and energy are limited; for another, the timing for them is not yet ripe. For some group members, even completing the current assignment is already quite stressful; adding new tasks would be more than they can bear. I cannot let them break down and give up on group study, so I can only teach according to aptitude.

When I formed this group, I did not dare hope for great results in the short term. But now it seems the emergence of this group may change some classmates' lives. While they are still confused about the future, having a senior help them sort out their development thinking, teach them some key skills, and lead them as they start out can save them many detours. The patients who will later turn to them for help will also benefit thereby.

Today a girl asked me, "Uncle, when you are about to do something, what do you consider first?" I said I would consider whether the thing was meaningful. She then asked, "Does meaningful mean beneficial to yourself?" I answered, "Not necessarily. If a thing benefits others, even if it may not benefit me personally at all, it is still very meaningful, and I will do it without hesitation."

This girl's question reminded me of another question asked several years ago by a monk who had taken vows. She asked me, "What is the motivating intention behind what you do? Before you do something, what is the first thought in your mind?" I told her, "I have no premeditated thought; I act on intuition. If my intuition tells me a thing is meaningful and should be done, I do it."

I think this is probably my consistent style! My life has in fact been made wonderfully colorful by this style. This character trait has let me make many deeply bonded friends on life's journey; they have helped me open up many things I could not previously see and enriched my life experience. I believe that at some point in the future I will be proud of these young people I have come to know today.