How My Happy Childhood Turned Miserable
(Clearwisdom.net) I am a young Falun Dafa practitioner from Qiqihar. In the summer of 1997, when I was 7 years old, my neighbor gave my dad the book Zhuan Falun. After my dad read the book, he decided to practice Falun Gong, and my dad and I started to cultivate Dafa. Regardless of the hot summer or cold winter, we all persisted in going to the practice site. The environment at the practice site could really help our practitioners to improve themselves. We could truly feel the magnificence of "the Buddha-light illuminates everywhere and rectifies all abnormalities". Although I was only 7 years old, I stood in front of the group when practicing the exercises. I could do the sitting meditation for one hour. When other children spent their time playing all kinds of games, I liked to go to the practice site where I felt joyful and at ease.
In 1999, the Chinese Communist Party started to persecute Falun Gong. I was 9 at that time. I was not sure exactly what happened but I was afraid. Dad and I went to the practice site, but the practice site no longer existed. Dad and I went to a school to practice the exercises. Just a few minutes after we started, we were kicked off the grounds. We had to do the sitting meditation in front of the building where we lived. At that time all the people passing by looked at us with a strange look. I felt very sad. Later my dad was illegally sentenced to forced labor and imprisoned at the Fuyu Forced Labor Camp. He was put through brainwashing sessions and suffered brutal torture. Dad was not with me anymore. I felt very lonely and miserable. My heart was wounded by losing my dad and losing the environment of cultivation. I asked myself again and again why such a good cultivation was slandered. I missed my dad and missed the wonderful times we had at the practice site. After a year, dad was released. But the CCP officials said to him, "You can go back to work only if you give up your belief in Falun Gong and are transformed." My dad not only did not give up his belief, but also frequently wrote appeal letters to CCP officials. Eventually my dad was fired and my parents were forced to divorce. But I was happy that I could see my dad again. I began studying the Fa and practicing the exercises with my dad again, and my life once again brought me joyfulness inside my heart. Every day, dad recited Zhuan Falun and also encouraged me to do so. A few months later, dad decide to go to Beijing to appeal for Dafa. He asked me, "Dad will go to Beijing to validate the Fa. Do you want to go with me?" I said, "I do."
In the Summer of 2002, dad and I walked to the train station from home and caught the train to Beijing. Moments after we left, our home was confiscated by the police. The police drove vehicles to wait for us at major train stops on the way to Beijing, but we got off at a minor stop and transferred a few times. Finally we arrived in Beijing. Dad did not have an ID card, so the hotels wouldn't give us a room. Uniformed and plainclothes police were everywhere. Even the local old men and women all kept an eye out for Falun Gong practitioners. We slept in nearby streets and at the small alcove in the Summer Palace. At night we had to avoid the mosquitoes and avoid the police. It was very hard.
We took the bus directly to Tiananmen Square. The square was full of uniformed and plainclothes police. We walked into the crowd. When we saw some foreigners walking nearby, dad and I looked at each other and made a tacit agreement. We sat on the ground and started to do the sitting meditation. I heard someone take photos of us. After two to three minutes, the police shouted loudly and rushed at us. I was lifted up from the back. A police motorcycle drove up at high speed and ran up against dad's leg, but he didn't move an inch. A group of police came up and kicked, beat and dragged him. Dad insisted on finishing the last sitting exercise movement, pressing his hands together in front of his chest in a Heshi. The police took us to a small room by Tiananmen Square. A policeman punched my dad. I said, "I see the police hit people." The policeman said to my dad, "I will not beat you in front of your child." Then the police brought us to the entrance of Tiananmen. I saw a woman with her little son. The police beat her badly. Her nose was bleeding and her face was swollen. Her little son was very frightened and he cried loudly. We were taken onto a police vehicle. The vehicle circled Tiananmen Square. That was the most unforgettable and most magnificent scene in my life.
We were taken to a detention center near Tiananmen Square which was specially used for detaining Falun Dafa practitioners. A few police watched us. A policeman asked me, "Why did you come to Beijing?" I said, "Because Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good, Falun Dafa is good!" The policeman smiled and walked away. About five to six days later, we were taken back to my hometown by the local police. My dad was imprisoned.
I was left alone and had no one to depend on. I suffered condescending looks and discrimination. When I returned to school, the principal, director and other school leaders all came to my class and asked me, "Can you give up practicing Falun Gong?" I said, "I can agree with you on anything else. But it is not possible for me to give up practicing Falun Gong." Every day when I went to school, it felt like going to hell. The principal, director, journalists and police from the local police station frequently called me to the office and held a meeting with me, which was broadcast and could be heard in all classrooms. The director treated me very rudely. He pushed my chest and yelled at me. I was shorter than other students in my class. Other students frequently insulted me and scratched my face. I would always hear younger students saying in the corridor, "He practices Falun Gong." I was strictly controlled by a family member who took me to school and picked me up from school every day. When my family member came, the younger students said, "Falun Gong's family member is here." I felt unwell one time and I stayed at home for a few days. The principal, director and other school leaders all came to my home to make sure I had not fled with other Falun Gong practitioners. One day my dad wrote a letter to me and asked someone to deliver it to my school. My teacher found it and immediately sent the letter to the police station. The police came to my school and dragged me down the staircase and took me to the police station. Seven or eight police frightened me and interrogated me. They asked me the same questions over and over again. They asked me if I knew any other Falun Gong practitioners. One day, a very sharp rock was thrown and hit the back of my head. When I felt my head, my hair was full of blood. I felt so pressured by all the mistreatment, I could hardly breathe. I felt miserable and helpless. My body and mind were on the verge of total collapse. No matter where I went, people all considered me a burden and treated me like a monster or some non-human species. I frequently stayed at home, lonely and crying. Sometimes I would not eat for a few days.
Right now, my dad and many other uncles and aunties are still imprisoned and are suffering from brutal persecution. I wish my dad would come back home. I wish many miserable children like me could reunite with their parents. I also wish I could practice the exercises peacefully with dad and many other practitioners, who cultivate"Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance" under the warm sun, just like I did during my early childhood.