(Clearwisdom.net) I am a young Dafa practitioner in China, and I am 11 years old this year. I had a happy family in the past, but now only my grandmother and I remain, and we are dependent upon each other for survival. My father and uncle were illegally sentenced to forced labor for 12 and 8 years, respectively, and my mother was forced to leave home to avoid the constant hounding by police. My grandfather was so badly traumatized by the suffering that he passed away at the end of June 2004 and left us forever.

My parents, grandparents, and uncle were all Falun Dafa practitioners. In 1997, when I was only 4 years old, my parents and all of my family members used to go to a Falun Gong practice site to study the Fa and do the Falun Gong exercises. As time passed, I also began following my parents to go to the practice site. I then began going to the practice site every day. When the adult Dafa practitioners studied the Fa, I listened to them and played by myself at the same time. After I started going to school, I was able to study the Fa and do the Falun Gong exercises by myself.

After July 20, 1999, when the persecution of Falun Dafa began, my parents were persecuted and forced to become homeless to avoid being illegally arrested. They devoted themselves to truth-clarification and the salvation of sentient beings. In the second half of 2002, I also helped make truth-clarification materials with my parents and did what I could within my ability.

On November 28, 2003, some policemen surrounded our truth-clarification materials site. At that time, my mother was not there. The policemen broke into our room, pushed my father to the ground, and ransacked the place. They confiscated many things, including a tape recorder, a motorcycle, a bicycle and more. I ran to the door and cried out, "Robbers are breaking into our home!"

The policemen knew that they were doing something bad and were afraid that their bad behavior would be exposed to the public. So they picked me up and threw me to the ground. But I kept on crying out. They then slapped my face so forcefully that one of my ears was immediately deafened. After that my father and I were thrown into a detention center.

It was so cold in November that I couldn't help shivering. I wasn't detained together with my father, but I knew that the policemen had beaten him. At 9:30 p.m. my grandfather came to the detention center to see us. However, he could only take me home and was not allowed to see my father.

My father was sentenced to forced labor camp for 12 years. As for my uncle, he had already been sentenced to 8 years of forced labor in 2001. My grandfather finally collapsed under the great pressure. He passed away at the end of June 2004, leaving me forever.