(Minghui.org) I started to practice Falun Gong at the end of 1996. I thought, “Master! How come I haven't found you until now!”
Since then, every single word by Mr. Li Hongzhi, called Master by Falun Gong practitioners, is imprinted in my heart.
I was illiterate and worried that I was unable to read Zhuan Falun, the main book of Falun Gong. I bowed in front of Master's photo and said, “I must improve in my cultivation and be able to read Falun Gong books, even if I learn just one word a day.”
I opened Zhuan Falun and traced all the words with my finger. After I fell asleep, a voice told me to wake up and read the table of contents. I did not know anything about a table of contents, nor where I could find it. I asked my son for help. He suggested to start by transcribing Lunyu, the preface of Zhuan Falun.
It was not easy to transcribe and took many hours, but I persevered. Before I had finished transcribing the last paragraph, I had memorized the preface.
Also, as soon as I went to sleep, a row of shiny words appeared before my eyes, and a voice that sounded like Master's voice taught me to read. I memorized every word in Zhuan Falun and recited every word I learned all day long. I could read the entire book (with the exception of a few words) within six months.
My home later became an exercise site. A college student served as the assistant, and I was asked to be the assistant after he returned to university. I went to our town's exercise site to study the Falun Gong books and exchange experiences with assistants from other areas every Saturday. My constant study of the law and principles of the practice, also known as the Fa, laid a solid foundation for my cultivation.
I had a dream during the night of July 17, 1999. In the dream, when I studied the Falun Gong books, I noticed that there was a fire outside our house. I put Zhuan Falun against my chest and ran out of the house. All the homes in the village were on fire, with smoke billowing out of them. I called for help to put out the fire when three large dark shadows walked towards me.
I held Zhuan Falun in my left hand, raised my right hand and shouted, “Falun Gong is good!” The three dark shadows disappeared. I woke up, and my heart pounded heavily.
I fell asleep again, and in my dream I met up with a group of people, including our former assistant. They told me of the terrible consequences that awaited those who continued to practice Falun Gong. I was not afraid. They tried to kill me and the former assistant, though the young man was not steadfast in the dream.
This ominous dream turned out to be true in many ways. The young man later renounced Falun Gong because he could not give up his attachment to a young lady who demanded that he do so. In the end, she walked out on him anyway.
The retired head of the city police department told my second eldest brother on July 19, 1999, to stop anyone in his family from practicing Falun Gong and immediately burn or turn in the practice's books. “This movement is more drastic than the Cultural Revolution!” he said. “All retired officers of our police department have been called back just for the suppression of Falun Gong, which starts tomorrow.”
All my brothers came to my home and demanded that I renounce Falun Gong. I refused, so my second brother turned against me, struck me, and demanded that I return the money I had borrowed from him.
I did not have any money, so I told him he could sell my house. A bottle of beer he brought with him exploded at that exact moment and made a hole in the ceiling. Everyone sensed the scary atmosphere.
That day, fellow practitioners and I did the sitting meditation in my courtyard, when Chen, the police station head, village officials, and about eight people arrived at my home. They just watched us and talked among one another.
When we were done, Chen grabbed my tape recorder, walked away, and cursed at Master and Falun Gong. I pursued him because I wanted my tape recorder back. He said that since I had no education, I didn't know what I was doing. He threatened to arrest and imprison me if I did not do as told. He admitted that everyone in the village spoke well of me, but insisted that practicing Falun Gong was bad. I told him that it was Falun Gong that changed me into a good person.
I pointed out his wrongdoing, including confiscating personal property and using profanity a lot. Furthermore, the officers at his station demand free food at restaurants. He tried to get away from me and continued to curse.
Neighbors crowded the streets and laughed at the debacle. Even the village head turned his head to the side and covered his mouth. The village head asked me to be quiet. I told him that I would not have said anything if he had not taken my things and cursed the founder of Falun Gong.
About 40 people from the town government came to my home that afternoon. They demanded that I watch the Chinese Communist Party's propaganda programs, but I refused. They then demanded that I take down a photo of Master, and I again refused. An officer took it down and seized it anyway.
The town head and the police head demanded that I write a “guarantee statement” saying that I would quit practicing Falun Gong. I refused and instead wrote that I would continue the practice.
Chen demanded that I report to the police station daily. I said, “No! I didn't break any law by being a good person. Why should I report to the police station daily?” He did not force me, but instead sent junior officers to my home every day.
These officers demanded that I share my thoughts about Falun Gong, write a guarantee statement, and state whether I had given up the practice. They recorded what I said. I told them to read to me what they had written. I warned them not to try and fool me. They had admiration in their eyes and a broad smile on their faces when they read to me, “I will practice Dafa firmly and cultivate.”
I told them about the benefits of Falun Gong. They gave me a thumbs up and said, “You've transformed us. We might also practice Falun Gong.”
I put Zhuan Falun on the corner table, and they read it. They became like family members. One officer told me: “The villagers told Chen only good things about you. The village Party Secretary said that even nine oxen can't pull you back once you decide on a course.” I knew Master was encouraging me.
My family and relatives came to my home on the evening of July 20. My mother wailed, knelt down, and held my legs. I realized that this was to test whether I could remain unperturbed when my loved ones were in misery. I asked her to get up and calm down. She got up and stopped crying.
My second brother told me to write a guarantee statement. He spoke of the problems our family faced during the Cultural Revolution. He said that I had ruined the life of our entire family, and if I did not give up Falun Gong, our children would be kicked out of school. He could not change my mind, either.
Once my family realized that I would continue to practice Falun Gong, they decided to sign the statement on my behalf. They told me to put down my fingerprint; instead, I tore up the statement.
My brother beat me, which still did not change my mind. In the end, he gave up and told me that they no longer considered me family. They also threatened to beat me if I ever showed up at their homes.
The village Party Secretary asked me if I wanted to sell peaches that evening, and I agreed.
Two of my sisters-in-law helped me pick the peaches. They had not returned home with the rest of the family. Instead, they waited outside my house during the entire night. They did not like how I was treated by the rest of the family and worried that I would commit suicide.
“Don't worry. No matter how they treat me, I won't hold a grudge,” I said. “Falun Gong disciples don't commit suicide. But thank you for caring about me.” After we picked the peaches, they left without eating lunch.
The police learned that we did not use pesticides, yet the peaches grew really well. They offered to buy all of my peaches for a high price. They also left money in the village office for my son's education expenses.
The villagers were envious. “She practices Falun Gong,” they said. “You may argue that it was not how extraordinary her crops grew without pesticides, but her peaches were not touched by insects although she didn't spray any chemicals. As hard as we tried to sell ours, we couldn't sell at her price.”
I pressed my palms together and thanked Master in my heart.
I went to bed early on October 1 and had a dream: There was a charcoal stove, and one of the pieces of burning charcoal jumped out. I knew that was a hint from Master that I should step forward and defend Dafa. Last time, I held fear and did not go to Beijing, but this time nothing could stop me.
I heard from practitioners that some others from out of town would go to Beijing and appeal to the central government for the right to practice Falun Gong. I agreed to go with them.
About 30 practitioners from our village went to Tiananmen Square on October 1, 1999. A plainclothes officer asked if I came to petition. I admitted that I wanted to petition for the right to practice Dafa. I refused to tell them where I came from. One officer stepped on my foot, while another kicked me—yet I felt no pain.
I was not afraid, but a fellow practitioner was scared and gave them our addresses. All 30 of us were arrested and taken to the Tiananmen Police Station. A female officer refused to believe that I was 41 years old, and wrote my age as 28 on the arrest document.
Chen, the head of our town's police station, came to Beijing to take us back. I was taken to the lockup center, while my fellow practitioners were taken to the detention center.
To my surprise, the director at the lockup center was an old acquaintance of mine. I had looked for him because he had confiscated a videotape of our Master's lectures and Dafa books. He had promised in 1997 to return them once he had read them, and he was now embarrassed because he had turned the books in to the authorities.
But he took good care of me and asked me to eat when he ate at the center. It was the coldest time of the year, and he brought three quilts so I would be warm at night. At times he had me take care of the heater in his office so I would be warm.
Three practitioners were transferred to the lockup center and put in my cell. We shared our thoughts, discussed, and encouraged one another.
I was interrogated by Yang, chief of the police department; Chen, former head of the town police station; and the political head. Chen asked me if I would practice something other than Falun Gong.
“No!” I said. “Nothing else can change a person. Dafa tells us to be good. For example, you, as a director, want your subordinates to do well so you can worry less. Isn't it so? I haven't even met my Master. All I did was spend a mere 9.50 yuan to buy this book Zhuan Falun. This one book has changed me. No matter how you try to control people, can you change them? You can't.”
We sat down, and words—deep from my heart—poured out of me. He took them into his own heart. He changed totally. His anger was gone, and he no longer cursed.
I said that I had been ill and tried all kinds of medications, hospitals, Western medicine, Chinese medicine, fengshui, and many other techniques. None cured me. Within three days of practicing Dafa, however, I became healthy. Also, within six months, I went from being illiterate to being able to read Zhuan Falun.
Chen suddenly stood up. “I joined the Party 40 years ago,” he said. “Over 40 years and the party hasn't changed me. But you have changed me!”
Then, Chief Yang talked to me. I told him that I was determined to practice cultivation. He threatened me, “We will sentence you to several years...or, we'll send you to the northwestern desert, from where there is no return.”
I replied: “What you say doesn't count. Why? You are also controlled by divine beings. You can't do what you want. Things aren't how you imagine they are. You may have the best plan today, but you don't know what will happen tomorrow. Think about it, isn't that so? Do you believe in the existence of divine beings?”
On return to the cell, I had a dream, in which I just had taken an exam. It was an unpleasant dream, but after I woke up, I realized that I had passed a test.
I was allowed to return home, and the three practitioners in my cell were encouraged. I told them that they must remain steadfast and never be “transformed,” or forced to give up their belief in Falun Gong. They all pressed their palms together and promised to stay steadfast.
My greatest regret is that I never visited those practitioners after I promised to do so.
[To be continued]