Maintaining Connections in the Midst of COVID

By Leong Imm Chon (梁嫣親)
Photo by Michael Xiao (蕭耀華)
Translated by Wu Hsiao-ting (吳曉婷)

Maintaining Connections in the Midst of COVID

By Leong Imm Chon (梁嫣親)
Photo by Michael Xiao (蕭耀華)
Translated by Wu Hsiao-ting (吳曉婷)

When home visits to the needy had to be suspended on account of the pandemic, Tzu Chi volunteers and social workers turned to calling the underserved to extend care and aid.

"Hello, I'm a volunteer/social worker from the Tzu Chi Foundation. I'm calling to check whether your life has been affected by the pandemic. How have you been doing? Is there anything we can do for you?"

After a level three pandemic alert was expanded to the entire island of Taiwan on May 19, 2021, we Tzu Chi members had to put our home visits to the underserved on hold. Instead, we immediately adjusted our modes of care delivery and began phoning families under our long-term care to determine how Tzu Chi could help them during this challenging time. We've averaged more than a thousand calls a week in Yilan, Hualien, and Taitung alone. A call might last anywhere from 30 minutes to two hours, as we listen carefully to the families pour out their hearts to us or share with us the problems they have encountered during this difficult time.

I work in the Tzu Chi Department of Charity Mission Development in Hualien. One day, I noticed tears in the eyes of my colleague Xu, a social worker, after she had finished one such care call. She had been talking for two hours. I knew she must have been very thirsty, so I handed her a glass of water. She gulped it down, then said, "It's a good thing I made that call. The mother I talked to was on the brink of a breakdown. My call appeared to be the breather she needed."

The woman my colleague had spoken to, Lin, was a kindergarten teacher. She lived with her mom, who was in her 60s, and with her 15-year-old son, Jie. Jie's grandmother helped care for him when his mother was at work, but it wasn't easy. Jie, physically large and strong, was a hyperactive child with a propensity for violence. He often lashed out and hit his grandmother when his temper got the better of him. His violence was not confined to his family either. He once even gave a visiting social worker bruises by pinching her.

When a sudden spike in COVID-19 cases caused all schools in Taiwan to close in May, Lin experienced for the first time what it was like living with her son 24 hours a day. Jie became even more volatile without school to divert him. The lack of visits of his home care provider, suspended due to the pandemic, just made it worse. The boy became like a ticking time bomb, set to explode at any time. Lin and her mother suffered violence from him several times a day. Feeling utterly alone and helpless, Lin's heart was full of despair. She was in a state of near hysteria when she received the phone call from my colleague. She said she felt like a drowning person who had just caught a piece of driftwood. The phone call and conversation reignited a spark of hope in her.

My colleague told me that she listened most of the time and just offered words of comfort during those two hours of "conversation" with the mother. Lin did most of the talking. At the end of the call, my colleague asked the mother what else Tzu Chi could do to help her. "We're doing fine financially, so we do not need help in that area," Lin replied. "All I ask is if you can call me a few times a week. Your phone call today saved me!" For quite a while after she hung up the phone, my coworker remained emotionally moved. She was happy she could "save" a mother, and perhaps even a family, by being a patient listener for just two short hours.

We Can Make a Difference

On another day, I called Yong, a visually impaired care recipient in Ruisui, Hualien. Since he couldn't go out to work during the pandemic, I was concerned about his finances and wanted to find out how he was getting by. When I asked him how he was getting along, he told me he was managing okay financially, but missed going to church. He also missed interacting with people. Even his home care provider wasn't able to enter his home to clean it up—she could only deliver meals to him. He said listening to Master Cheng Yen's Dharma talks was keeping him going.

"Did you hear anything you particularly liked?" I asked.

"The Master teaches us to do good, so I drop money into my coin bank every day to be used to help the needy. The bank is nearly full. When will you come to collect it?"

I told him that we wouldn't be visiting him anytime soon because of the pandemic, but asked him to continue saving money in an empty container when his coin bank was full. Before I said goodbye, I asked if there was anything else we could do for him. He answered, "No. The only thing I want is for one of you people to call me every day for a chat."

I put down the phone overwhelmed with emotion. What he wanted was so simple: just a simple phone call.

Looking out the window at the blue sky outside, I wondered when we will be able to stop wearing masks and return to our life before. I wondered when those of us in Tzu Chi will resume our regular visits to our care recipients. Because of the pandemic, the things we used to take for granted have become more precious now.

I looked at my colleagues around me. Every day, they answer calls on our help hotline or phone families receiving long-term support from Tzu Chi to check on them. Sometimes they get so busy they forget to drink water or go to the restroom. It's impossible not to feel tired after working a day like that. And not only that, but it takes a lot of energy to handle others' negative emotions while keeping their own minds clear and focused so that they can properly address the needs of the people they are talking to and help them solve their problems.

Every day, my coworkers and I repeat what might seem insignificant in others' eyes—talking incessantly on the phones in front of our computers. Those who don't understand our work might think that we are simply chatting our days away. They don't know that every phone call requires sincerity, patience, and empathy. If we are not emotionally strong enough or lose sight of our aspirations to help others, we wouldn't be able to keep making one phone call after another.

"You must take care too!" Another colleague told me this is what she most often hears from care recipients at the end of calls. She said words like those were like a blessing—they instilled strength in her and helped keep her going. "Lighting a lamp for someone else also brightens your path," as a saying goes. When we extend care to others, we are often rewarded with their warmth. Such warmth brings us hope.

We are lucky, compared with those whose lives have been badly impacted by the pandemic and who receive care from us. We can still do work that helps others, and we are financially secure. The pandemic has furloughed many people or has greatly reduced the hours they can work. Some have even lost their jobs permanently. Schoolchildren can't access online learning while their schools are closed because they lack the resources. All kinds of problems can crush a family or throw their lives into disarray.

I remember something that Master Cheng Yen once said on an occasion when volunteers were looking back on the charitable path of Tzu Chi and sharing what they had experienced along the way: "During the September 21 Earthquake or Typhoon Herb, the power of nature really hit home. We human beings are so small and insignificant in the face of such destructive power. But even though we are small and insignificant, we can still do great things and make a difference."

As it is with nature, we might feel small and insignificant in the face of the ruthless COVID-19 pandemic. But as small and insignificant as we may be, we can still help others every day. Take my coworkers and me as an example. We can call needy families and check if they are doing okay. We can tell them they can turn to Tzu Chi for assistance any time they need a helping hand. We can let them know that we are here for them when the going gets tough. Despite being small and insignificant, we can be superheroes for others as we lovingly form a safety net, catching every falling family and seeing them through the critical time of the pandemic.

Faced with the severe challenge of the pandemic, we don't need people with super powers. There lives in each of us a superhero capable of lending a hand to those in need.