Translated By Tony Qin
In a ward at the children’s hospital, two-year-old Kangkang lay in bed with medical tubes attached all over his small body. His pale little face rose and fell slightly with each rapid breath. His eyes were tightly closed, and a faint look of pain rested between his brows.
His grandmother held him carefully in her arms. His mother, Huisi, sat beside them, her eyes filled with worry and heartache. The room was so quiet that it hurt. It seemed as though every breath Kangkang took tugged at the hearts of the whole family.
A week earlier, while I was in Vancouver, I received news that Kangkang’s cancer had returned and that he had been admitted to hospital. I hurried back to visit him. Huisi told me that the doctors had already notified them that Kangkang was in critical condition, and that his life might come to an end within the next day or two.
I walked to his bedside and wanted to hold the little boy, but there were so many tubes around him that his grandmother did not dare move him from her arms. I could only bend down beside his ear and softly chant “Namo Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva.”
At that very moment, a tear slowly slipped from the corner of Kangkang’s tightly closed eye. I knew he had heard me and had received the warmth behind those words.
Kangkang was only five months old when doctors discovered a malignant tumour in his abdomen. They said the cancer had been present from birth. From then on, the hospital became his second home, with his mother and grandmother taking turns caring for him day and night.
His tiny body endured round after round of chemotherapy, as well as several experimental drug treatments. Yet the cancer cells remained like a shadow that would not leave him.
Huisi had once been a successful career woman. She was strong-willed and capable. She and her boyfriend had Kangkang before marriage, and she had thought that her life would now have an added sense of stability and sweetness.
But after her son was admitted to hospital, her relationship with her boyfriend changed and they separated. Then, because of a failed investment, she lost the savings she had accumulated over many years.
The worry beside her son’s sickbed, the pain of her broken relationship, and the financial setback weighed on her one after another. Eventually, Huisi developed severe depression.[1] Her company was understanding of her situation and allowed her to take unpaid leave so that she could receive treatment at home and deal with personal matters.
When Kangkang was a little over a year old, his condition became somewhat more stable, and he was finally able to leave the hospital and continue treatment at home.
At that time, I went to visit the family.
With his grandmother supporting him, little Kangkang was learning to walk, tottering forward step by step. Every step seemed like an effort to respond to life.
Huisi, however, looked exhausted and worn. She told me that she was taking psychiatric medication, but she still could not sleep at night. During the day, she was unable to concentrate and felt completely drained.
Kangkang’s grandmother pulled me aside and told me anxiously that Huisi no longer had the energy to do anything. She resisted going outside and did not want to see anyone. She was completely different from the capable and confident career woman she had once been.
On the one hand, Kangkang’s grandmother had to care closely for her seriously ill grandson. On the other, she was deeply worried about her daughter’s mental state. The pressure she carried can easily be imagined. I saw this mother holding back her tears, hiding her anxiety within, and supporting the entire family on her own.
I felt strongly that I had to help Huisi stand up again.
So I guided her in learning the Buddha Dharma, taught her to recite the Great Compassion Mantra every day,[2] and arranged for both mother and son to take refuge in the Three Jewels.[3]
Gradually, Huisi came to understand the Buddhist teachings on cause and effect across past, present, and future lives, karma and rebirth, and the law of causes, conditions, and their results.[4] She came to understand that although the hardship before her was heavy, she still had to courageously take on her responsibilities as a mother.
But an emotional illness cannot be healed overnight. During that period, I often listened patiently as she poured out what was in her heart, comforted her when she was distressed, and, when she felt lost, helped her think through things and offered her some direction and encouragement.
After several months, Huisi’s emotional state had improved, and her doctor also began reducing her medication.
Unexpectedly, just as she was beginning to emerge from the darkness, Kangkang’s condition worsened again and reached a critical point between life and death.
I asked Huisi what she planned to do.
She told me that she had previously found a professor of Chinese medicine who specialized in treating cancer, but unfortunately the hospital had never agreed to include Chinese medicine in Kangkang’s treatment. Now that Western medicine had no better options, she only wanted to take Kangkang for Chinese medical treatment as soon as possible, hoping to give her child one more chance at life.
After hearing this, I agreed with her decision and sincerely wished that everything would go smoothly.
I was especially concerned about Huisi’s emotional state.
But she said to me firmly, “Master, please don’t worry. I will take good care of myself. I won’t give up on myself the way I did before. I will do everything I can to save and protect Kangkang.”
At that moment, I saw that Huisi had truly become strong as a mother.[5] She had finally stood up again after all her suffering.
Kangkang then began an extremely difficult course of Chinese medical treatment.
Every day, his grandmother spent several hours preparing the herbal medicine, then carefully fed it to him in six separate doses. He also had to receive acupuncture every week.
Fortunately, Kangkang was very understanding. Although the medicine was bitter and he was afraid of the needles, he still tried his best to cooperate. The doctors and nurses could not help feeling compassion for such a small child having to endure so much pain.
It was almost as though he too understood that this was the final opportunity life had given him for treatment.
Under the devoted care of his mother and grandmother, Kangkang’s Chinese medical treatment gradually began to show results.
His energy and appetite slowly returned. Six months later, when the tumour was examined, the doctor said that it had clearly shrunk.
Treatment continued in this way for more than a year. Eventually, Kangkang was able to go outside and take part in activities like an ordinary child, and he was fortunate enough to enter kindergarten.
Huisi said with emotion, “I truly never imagined that Kangkang would live to see the day when he could go to school!”
So many tears and so much joy were contained in those words, along with the deep gratitude of a mother who had walked out of despair.
Huisi often reflected that Kangkang had undergone such prolonged treatment in both Western and Chinese medicine from such a young age. No one could know what his health or lifespan would be in the future.
She said, “As long as I am his mother for even one day, I must teach him well, help him develop good character, and raise him to become someone useful to society. Only then will the bond that brought us together as mother and son not have been in vain.”
His grandmother also said that for as long as she was alive, she only wished to do everything she could to care for her daughter and grandson, asking for nothing in return. Whether she would live to see what Kangkang might one day accomplish was no longer the most important thing.
Huisi also introduced Kangkang to Buddhism from an early age. She told him stories about cause and effect, took him to temples to pay respect to the Buddha, brought him to senior homes to give gifts, and took him to participate in various charitable activities.
Through this, Kangkang developed a gentle and caring nature and was often praised by those around him.
Perhaps suffering does not have to leave only scars. If we can meet it with compassion and wisdom, it can also become the soil that nourishes wholesome roots.
Kangkang continued with his Chinese medical treatment.
At the age of six, he entered a well-known elementary school. At the same time, examinations at the children’s hospital confirmed that his tumour had disappeared. Even the doctors found it incredible.
We all knew that behind this miracle were the day-after-day care of his mother and grandmother, their perseverance through countless sleepless nights, and the flower that compassionate vows had brought forth in the midst of suffering.
As the Buddhist scriptures say:
“A compassionate mother’s kindness is as deep as the great sea.”[6]
Kangkang is now nine years old.
Wanting to help him become physically stronger, his mother arranged for him to learn Chinese martial arts after school. Kangkang was very interested and was fortunate enough to be accepted by a sports academy. Every afternoon, his grandmother takes him there for training.
Now Huisi has begun worrying about his daily routine. She is afraid that he may become too absorbed in martial arts and neglect his studies, so she has been carefully looking for a tutor for him.
Huisi said to me, “I simply want to do as much as I can of whatever is good for him. But studying is the most basic thing at his age. I must help him do well in school. As his mother, this is a responsibility I cannot neglect.”
A mother’s love is not found in grand declarations. It is found in quietly watching over her child at every stage of the journey, making arrangements, taking responsibility, and doing what she can to help him along the way.
Afterword:
Looking back over Kangkang’s journey through illness and recovery, what moves us most is not only the change in his medical condition, but the unwavering compassion and resolve of his mother and grandmother.
Life is impermanent. The gathering and dispersing of causes and conditions in this world cannot be completely controlled by human effort. Yet amid impermanence, we can still choose to take responsibility with compassion, face life with faith and resolve, and transform suffering through wholesome thoughts.
During her darkest days, Huisi cried, fell, and lost her way. Yet because of her motherly love, she stood up again.
Year after year, her mother cared for both her daughter and grandson without asking for anything in return, wishing only that they would be safe.
This motherly love is among the deepest forms of compassion in the human world and one of the most simple and direct manifestations of the Bodhisattva path.
May Kangkang treasure the precious causes and conditions that have allowed him to live this life, and may his wholesome roots continue to grow in love and blessings, with gratitude always in his heart.
May he one day, through compassionate care and steadfast faith, repay the kindness of his family, bring warmth to others, and benefit even more sentient beings with whom he shares an affinity.
[1] Depression is a common psychological and emotional disorder. It is not merely a temporary low mood or weakness. Its main features include persistent low mood, loss of motivation, and loss of interest in things.
[2] Reciting the Great Compassion Mantra every day can help calm and steady the mind, reduce anxiety, and cultivate compassion. According to the Great Compassion Dhāraṇī Sūtra of the Thousand-Handed and Thousand-Eyed Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva, reciting this mantra can not only help dissolve serious negative karma, but is also said to bring extraordinary benefits such as freedom from fear, physical and mental well-being, and rebirth according to one’s wishes at the end of life.
[3] Taking refuge in the Three Jewels is a fundamental foundation of Buddhist faith and symbolizes formally becoming a Buddhist. “Taking refuge” means turning toward and relying upon them with body and mind. The “Three Jewels” are the most precious treasures in Buddhism: the Buddha, the Awakened One; the Dharma, the teachings and truths left by the Buddha; and the Sangha, the monastic community that practises according to the Buddhadharma.
[4] A foundation of Buddhist teaching is cause and effect across the three times and rebirth through the Six Paths. The three times are the present, past, and future. What happens in the lives of sentient beings is not accidental, but follows the principle that “as one sows, so shall one reap.” The circumstances of this life are the results of actions created in the past, while our actions in this life in turn shape our destiny in future lives. The Six Paths refer to the continual cycle of birth and death undergone by all beings who have not attained liberation, according to their wholesome and unwholesome karma. They are the realms of heavenly beings, asuras, human beings, animals, hungry ghosts, and hell beings.
[5] “A mother becomes strong for her child” refers to how a woman who may originally be gentle in character or physically weak can, after becoming a mother, draw upon her natural motherly love and instinct to protect her child, developing extraordinary resilience and strength to courageously face all kinds of difficulties.
[6] From the Mahāyāna Sūtra of Contemplation on the Mind-Ground, “Chapter on Repaying Kindness” (《大乘本生心地觀經–報恩品》).
