In this article, a practitioner recounts her life just before and during the first few months of the persecution of Falun Gong. As a strong-willed practitioner, local officials did not know how to deal with her. Even tremendous pressure from her family could not change her heart, but she eventually changed the hearts of many who persecuted her.
(Minghui.org) Continued from Part 1
Lifelong Regret
When I was released from the lockup center and returned home on January 25, 2000, one of my cousins brought my mother-in-law to my home because it was my husband's turn to take care of her.
My mother-in-law was paralyzed and bedridden. I told her that I did not think that she was ill, but that she just did not eat well enough. I read Zhuan Falun to her, and fed her regularly. Within three days, she was taking care of herself and going for walks in the courtyard.
I read eight lectures of Zhuan Falun to her within the first ten days of her stay with us and told her about the practice. “I didn't realize that Falun Gongis really good,” she said. “It's not like what those people have said on television. They've told lies.”
My mother-in-law later passed away while I was not at home. I did not finish reading the ninth lecture of Zhuan Falun to her. This has become a lifelong regret.
'It will cost me my rank if you go to Beijing'
A junior police officer once told me: “The town's officials can't wait for you to go to Beijing to appeal for the right to practice Falun Gong. If you go, they will compete for the opportunity of visiting Beijing for fun. It doesn't cost them a penny. The whole village is forced to pay their expenses. They take everyone's money to enjoy food, drinks, and travel at others' expense while persecuting good people. They are not doing it for the communist government either—just for themselves, for holding onto their official positions.”
Before the Chinese New Year, I read the Falun Gong books late one night, when the village Party Secretary and police officers banged on my door. They told me that they were worried that I would go to Beijing.
My fear surfaced, my heart jumped to my throat, and my legs were weak and shaky. I slapped my leg and said: “Don't shake! You don't want me to go to Beijing, but I'm all the more determined because you act up! I must get rid of fear!” My legs stopped shaking, and shortly afterward, the officers left. I resumed the Fa study.
A few days into the Chinese New Year, police took me to a detention center because I refused to write the guarantee statement, a declaration to give up practicing Falun Gong.
Yang, the police department chief, said, “Generations of my family expected one of us to one day become an official. It wasn't easy for me to reach this position. It will cost me my rank if you go to Beijing. Can you not go to Beijing?” I did not say anything. My thought was, “I will go. I just won't tell them where I am from.”
I talked about Falun Gong to everyone in the detention center. I had a dream on the 27th night there: a fellow practitioner was unable to open a door. I took the keys and opened the door without any problem.
The next day, I walked out of the detention center.
'It was for you that we endured the torture'
My husband and I went to Beijing to appeal for justice for Falun Gong on Master Li's birthday in 2000. We were arrested and taken to the Tiananmen Police Station.
I refused to give my address. The officers handcuffed us and beat us with a long wooden bar. The pain was excruciating, but I told myself to endure it. When it was almost too much to bear, I begged Master, “Your disciple can't bear it anymore.”
Shortly thereafter, the handcuffs were removed, and the beatings stopped.
Officers from our province in the Beijing Liaison Office recognized me. Our town head came to Beijing, took us back, and took my husband to the lockup center. There, he went on a five-day hunger strike and was soon released. I was taken to the detention center, went on a hunger strike, and was released after six days.
Yang came to see me. I told him how those officers tortured me. He asked me why I was so dumb and did not tell them what they wanted to know. They would have stopped the torture, he said.
I said: “You said that generation after generation, your family looked forward to your becoming an official, and it wasn't easy for you to reach this position. I didn't tell them so it wouldn't affect your career. It was for you that we endured the torture.”
He was moved. “How many of us do you see have lost our jobs?” he said. “Who would remove us from our positions? I said that to stop you from going to Beijing. You endured all the beatings just for me.”
I said, “I took your word for it and thought if they didn't recognize me, I wouldn't tell them where we came from.”
The local police arrested my husband and me and took us to the detention center on January 1, 2001. After a two-week hunger strike, I was released. My husband was taken to a lockup center and later released after seven days on a hunger strike.
The Communist Party Spreads Lies to Incite Hatred
I was cooking at home when seven or eight police officers came to my home and arrested my husband and me. They took us to a brainwashing center hidden in a nursing home. All other practitioners from our town were taken to different places because the officials worried that I would influence them.
I shouted throughout the drive, “The Chinese Communist Party persecutes good people! The Communist Party is committing a crime!”
When we arrived at the nursing home, I refused to get out of the car and continued to shout. The nursing home director's granddaughter started to cry. She said to her, “Don't cry, don't cry. Falun Gong kills people!” I stopped shouting upon hearing this.
I talked to the director and told her about Falun Gong and the persecution. She told me that practitioners beat her brother-in-law to death. She gave me his name and address, and I recognized him as a fellow practitioner. I told her: “You were deceived by the government. Spreading rumors, telling lies, and inciting hatred is what they are good at! I knew your brother-in-law.”
I told her that we were at the same detention center, and that we all went on a hunger strike. They force-fed us salted cornmeal mush. He was force-fed a half basin of salted cornmeal mush, which got into his lungs. He could not eat anything anymore, so he was taken to the hospital. He indeed died—but from force-feeding by police.”
“They told us he was beaten to death on the way to Beijing by practitioners for showing up late,” she said. “This is incredible. What they told us were all lies!”
The deputy director of the nursing home listened to what I had to say. She and the director suggested that we leave because we were good people. They were upset that we did not leave and refused to talk to us after two days.
Escaping From the Nursing Home
I told the head of the town's 610 Office that I needed to get clothes from home. He asked for someone to follow me, but everyone refused. The director of the town's Women's Federation lent me her bike, and I went home.
I had made up my mind that my husband and I had to leave our home and told my son and a neighbor who promised to look after my son. My son held on to the bike, so I got on it and rode away without looking back, even though I heard him crying.
As soon as I arrived at the nursing home, I ran into the 610 Office head who told me that we had to be “transformed” and write the “guarantee statement” or we would face prison.
I said, “Let me tell you the truth—whatever you say doesn't count. Only my Master has the final say.”
My husband and I walked out of the nursing home 10 minutes later and became essentially homeless.
In Hiding
After we escaped from the nursing home, we went to look for a fellow practitioner in a neighboring city and arrived at his place at about midnight. We did not want to disturb him and stayed in a little orchard hut until dawn before we went to his home.
He and his wife were also harassed and put on the police blacklist after they returned from Beijing. They did not dare to let us stay. We had nowhere to go and wandered around aimlessly. We ran into the fellow practitioner, and he invited us to his home and stay for the night. But since they were also concerned about our safety, they could not sleep and discussed the situation the whole night.
They decided that we could stay in their cellar. So we stayed in the cellar during the day and came upstairs when it was dark.
The cellar was cramped and damp. Over time, my everyday people's sentiment resurfaced. Mainly, I worried about my son. My fellow practitioners read the Fa to me and shared their understandings, but it didn't help much. I then called a fellow practitioner in my hometown from a public phone, and she told me that my son was looked after by practitioners. Gradually, this attachment subsided.
However, life in the wet, cold cellar got to us, and my husband lost weight. We asked if they would bring us a briquettes stove and some flour, so we could cook. They didn't mind at all, and they got the stove and everything else we asked for.
One morning, I saw blue smoke afloat in the cellar. The smoke was not moving. It was an eerie feeling, but I could not tell what was wrong. The smoke acted differently than normal smoke.
While cooking, I suddenly could not breathe and then lost consciousness. My husband took me upstairs and put me to bed. They asked Master for help, and I regained consciousness after a short while.
I was able to go to the bathroom, although my legs were very weak. I also threw up and had diarrhea. After that, my strength slowly returned. I told the practitioners not to worry. “I opened a loophole for the evil,” I said.
I described how when local police tried to take me to a brainwashing center, I said to them that I would rather die than cooperate. They responded that dying from suicide is a crime. I said, “Even if I end up in hell because of the crime of suicide, I would not cooperate with you.”
I realized on the first day in the cellar that what I said to the police was wrong. It was not in line with the Fa. Although I had not gone to hell, I was in a cellar and almost died.
Overall, I think that my thought of refusing to cooperate with the police complied with the requirements of Falun Gong, but the old forces attempted to take my life because I did not speak and act as righteously as I should have. Master once again saved my life. Thank you, Master!
