(Clearwisdom.net) When I was a small child, I lived in northern China, and the weather was very cold during the winter. However, I did not worry about the frigid temperatures because my mother knitted wool sweaters and wool pants for me before each winter. My friends all envied me because every day I wore different wool sweaters with pictures of cute white rabbits or deer on them. Mother used to stay up very late to knit the sweaters for me. She also took me to classes in drawing, dancing, and to develop other talents. She wanted me to excel. Yet, I often skipped out of the activities to play with other children. Whenever she mentioned how I had avoided the classes, her voice was tense and had a tone of blame.
Although she did not have much money, my mother made sure that I had everything I needed. I had everything that other children in our economic circumstances owned and also things that they did not have. Often mother went all over the city to look for a pair of red dance shoes or a pair of white stockings for me.
Mother and I started cultivating Falun Dafa in 1997. This was our happiest time together. Before dawn, she took me to the exercise site, carrying a tape recorder and cushions, rain or shine. We were able to go on this joyful journey together until the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) started persecuting Falun Gong in 1999. After the persecution began, mother took me out each night on her bicycle. We distributed truth-clarification materials about Falun Gong as we traveled on our route.
Mother was illegally arrested and imprisoned three times for validating Dafa. When I was in high school and college, I had a very tense relationship with her. When I returned home during each vacation, I would quarrel with her. In the summer of 2008, after an intense argument with her, I took my luggage and went back to school. When I was on the bus, mother called my cell phone and said, “Sorry...I should not treat you like that. Please don't be angry with me.” My tears poured out. Unfortunately, I did not know that was the last conversation I was to have with my mother for two years.
On Christmas Day that year, which is also mother's birthday, someone reported her to the police, and she was arrested for distributing truth-clarification materials. She was then imprisoned at the Shandong Provincial Number Two Women's Forced Labor Camp. I had a feeling that something was wrong, but I was busy with my studies and did not call home. When I arrived home for winter vacation, father told me, “Your mom was put in a forced labor camp.”
For many nights I cried for mother in my dreams, and when I awakened, tears were all over my face. Every time I telephoned the forced labor camp, my request to talk to mother was rejected because she refused to be transformed. I couldn't write to her or visit her. Later, I found out that they had tortured her into a state of disability. Early in 2009, I went to the forced labor camp to see her. When the heavy gate slowly opened, I was disappointed to see a policeman emerge instead of my mother. After a long interrogation-style conversation, the policeman still did not let me see mother. The wall and the iron gate separated mother and me into two different worlds.
The next time that I heard of mother was when I was in the U.S. Mother had strong righteous thoughts and shouted “Falun Dafa is good” every day in the forced labor camp. The officials of the forced labor camp became afraid and released her during summer 2010. Father took her home. When I talked to father, his low voice hinted that mother's situation was not good. I asked to see mother on video, but to my surprise, she refused: “I don't want you to see me.” The first sentence I heard from mother, after two years of separation, was this! I was about to collapse. My heart broke. With great effort, I held back from crying aloud because I did not want mother to hear me, which could have added to her sorrow. Mother kept saying softly to me, “Don't be sad. Don't be sad.” Actually, in my mind, no matter how her appearance had changed, she was the most beautiful mother in the world.
In January of this year, through Teacher's benevolence, mother came to the U.S. When we met, mother held my hand. Both of us were silent. Other practitioners were in tears.
I was not able to celebrate Mother's Day with mother for two years when we were separated. This year, mom, please let your daughter say Happy Mother's Day to you!
