(Minghui.org) I was born in 1946, and during my miserable life, I tried to commit suicide multiple times but failed. At the end of 1998, I was fortunate to hear about Falun Dafa and I knew I'd found a treasure. At last I saw hope and sunlight!
I opened a barber shop in my small county town in the 1980s. Because I worked hard and was talented, I earned a lot of money, but my health was poor. I gave all my earnings to my husband. He loved to play cards and dance, and spent all the money.
We had two sons. On June 19, 1987, my sixteen-year-old son drowned when he was visiting my mother. I was devastated. My husband blamed my brother. He got a dagger and threatened to kill him. My husband beat me whenever he saw me crying.
My husband kept pressuring me to have another baby. I was already 42 years old. I’d given birth to two sons, but I also hemorrhaged, and miscarried four babies. My fallopian tubes were tied. My husband kept saying he wanted another child, but I suffered from sickness throughout my body – uterine fibroids, cholecystitis, rheumatism, bronchitis, hepatitis, gastric disease, bone spurs in my lower back, hemorrhoids and leukemia. I had a chronic low-grade fever and my gums bled. My complexion was pale and I only weighed about 70 pounds.
I told my husband that I was sick and too old. I couldn’t have another baby even if I underwent surgery. My husband divorced me. He wanted the house and our little son. As for the money I’d earned over the years, he refused to give me a penny, saying it was all spent.
I left home in a state of distress and lived in my shop. Since my ex-husband did not take care of our son, he followed me to the shop where he lived and ate. I tasted the bitterness of life. I was fed up with other people’s bullying: Some men sexually harassed me when I cut their hair. Sometimes a group of gangsters came. After I cut their hair they refused to pay me. My ex-husband often came to the shop to ask for money. He would stay to eat and sleep. Even my apprentice stole money from me.
One winter night my deceased son’s former classmate came in for a haircut. As soon as I saw him, I remembered my son. Tears flowed down my face. After the classmate left, I followed him out of the shop. I walked for hours in the dark. My jacket, pants and shoes were soaked with rain and snow. It was not until dawn that I realized where I was and I went back to the shop. The door was open, the lights were on, and my son was asleep in bed.
I couldn’t maintain a clear mind so I had to close the barber shop. To escape my ex-husband’s harassment, I decided to move and build a house. I overcame the neighbor bullies who stole my building materials. As soon as the house was erected, I used bricks to seal off the windows, and I moved in. There was no money left for decorating, the floor was covered with sand, and the bed was a wooden board resting on bricks. But at least it was a home. I sold vegetables and raised my son.
On the morning of June 19, 1998, my son went to deliver fish to my brother’s house. A duck came from somewhere and swam in the pond. The villagers did not keep ducks, so when children saw them they wanted to catch them. My son jumped into the pond, and immediately sank. My brother and others jumped into the pond to save him. When the doctor came, my son was not breathing. He was sixteen years old. On that date eleven years before, my older son died, also at the age of sixteen.
This was my bitter fate! I could see only shadows. I just wanted to die and end my suffering. I lay in bed for forty-eight days without eating, yet I was not dead. I then mixed rat poison into my porridge and ate it, but it didn’t kill me. Instead I vomited it up. Three people drowned in the village well. One night I jumped into the well, hoping I would drown. The well water was bone-chilling cold. After spending the night in the well, I didn’t die. So I climbed back up for fear of being laughed at.
My 70-year-old father and my sister, who was pregnant, took turns following me. They knew I wanted to commit suicide. My father lost two grandsons (my children). He couldn’t take the grief. He drank pesticide and killed himself. Why?! I was the one who should have died! My life was bitter and dark.
An elderly neighbor urged me, “Come with me to practice Falun Dafa. Only Dafa can help you.” My sister also urged me to practice Falun Dafa.
The Dafa practitioners were so kind. When they heard my story they came to keep me company. They invited me to go to the auditorium and watch the videos of the teachings of Master Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Dafa. I sat there all night, but I didn’t focus on listening. Another time, when a recording of practitioners sharing about their cultivation experiences was to be played, my sister persuaded me to go. I sat there but I didn’t listen, because I was soaked in my own bitterness.
Practitioners taught me the five sets of exercises. They treated me very kindly. When I went to the group Fa study, they gave me a cushion to sit on and the brightest spot so I could read the Fa. I was impressed by their kindness and the peaceful atmosphere: How could these people be so nice? I had been bullied for most of my life. Practitioners were the only ones that were selfless. I wanted to practice cultivation. I invited practitioners to my home to read the Fa.
Whenever it was my turn to read I couldn’t stop sobbing. When our group read Zhuan Falun for the ninth time, I read these words of Master’s:
“The demonic interference from one’s mind also manifests in other forms. You may have seen interference from a relative who has passed away, and this person cries and begs you to do this or that. All kinds of things can happen. Will your mind stay unaffected? Suppose that you are very fond of this child of yours or love your parents, and your parents have passed away. They told you to do some things... all of which are things that you should not do. If you do them, it will be bad. It is just so tough to be a practitioner. It is said that Buddhism is in chaos. It has even absorbed from Confucianism things such as respecting parents and love for children. Buddhism did not have such content. What does this mean? Since one’s real life is one’s Original Soul, the one who gives birth to your Original Soul is your real mother. In the course of samsara, you have had mothers who were human and non-human, and there are too many of them to be numbered. It is also countless how many sons and daughters you have had throughout your different lifetimes. Who is your mother? Who is your son or daughter? No one recognizes one another after passing away. You must still pay for what you owe others. Human beings live in delusion and just cannot give up these things. Some people cannot let go of their sons and daughters and claim how good they are, and then they pass away. One may speak of how good one’s mother is, but then she also dies. This person grieves so much that he almost wants to follow her for the rest of his life. Why don’t you think about it? Aren’t they here to torment you? They use this form to make you unable to lead a good life.” (Lecture Six, Zhuan Falun)
Master’s words unlocked my heart and I finally saw the light.
Master taught me the principles of Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance, to consider others first, and my mind was opened. Master cleansed my body. I vomited a lot, and my limbs were stiff. I told Master in my mind that I’d get through it. I insisted on walking to a practitioner’s home to listen to the recordings of Master’s Fa lectures, and I got better in two days.
After the persecution of Falun Dafa was launched by CCP (Chinese Communist Party) in July 1999, many local practitioners went to Beijing to appeal for Dafa. I also wanted to go. My brother knew that the evil Party was capable of doing all kinds of bad things, so he was terrified and tried to stop me. I said, “You know I used to suffer from 16 kinds of diseases. I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to live anymore. Master saved me! Falun Dafa saved me! If I don’t petition I can’t live with my conscience.” My brother did not say anything. The other practitioners left without telling me, and due to financial difficulties, I had to stay home.
Practitioners who went to Beijing were arrested one after another and persecuted in the detention center. When it was visiting day at the detention center, I brought a large bag of eggs and dried tofu to the entrance and waited for the practitioners’ family members. I hid the Falun Dafa teachings in the packages. This way, fellow practitioners could read the Fa. I kept going there and practitioners and their family members in the township all got to know me. Practitioners who lived in the city and township formed one body. We began working together to improve in cultivation and we made all kinds of truth-clarification materials, banners, and stickers to tell people the true situation of Falun Dafa and the persecution.
We eventually got computers and printers, and set up a truth-clarification materials production site. The materials we made were distributed to several provinces. After the site was exposed and raided, I was illegally arrested and put under strict control in a detention center where I was subjected to brainwashing. I was held in solitary confinement and interrogated. No one was allowed to talk to me. They threatened to sentence me to no less than nine years.
I reminded myself that I am Master’s disciple. I resolved that they couldn't send me to prison. I asked Master to help me. I wanted to leave, study the Fa and assist Master in the Fa rectification. I couldn’t let these bad people destroy me. I started a hunger strike. I was steadfast and in my mind I asked Master to help me go home.
After eight days my heart almost stopped beating, my breathing seemed to stop, and I couldn’t move, but my mind was very clear. The director of the detention center directed the resuscitation while reporting to the police department. Five groups of people from the prison hospital, the police, the prosecutor’s office, the court, and the 610 Office, came to see me. The detention center wanted to shirk responsibility, afraid that I’d die. They wanted to send me home, but the 610 Office staff refused.
After another day of stalemate, the 610 people had to call my brother. They tried to extort some money from him. He sternly refused and said if I died he’d hold them accountable. The 610 people eventually had to let me go home.
When I returned home, a practitioner brought me a bowl of noodles, and I finished it in one gulp. She cooked another bowl of noodles and brought it to me, and I also finished it and regained my strength. That night a fellow practitioner came to visit. After learning that I had come out of a hunger strike, she advised me to leave immediately, as the CCP would not give up if they knew I had survived.
The other practitioners spent the night looking for someone who had a car to take me away. My sister came. She hugged me and wept, afraid that she would never see me again. I said, “Don’t worry, there is Master, there is Dafa, and fellow practitioners are like brothers and sisters. They will take good care of me.” I had to leave home to avoid further persecution.
I later went to the south to help my sister with her children. For a while, I had trouble with my hands and feet. Once when I was shopping for groceries, a doctor pulled me into a free clinic in the street and insisted on taking my blood pressure. As soon as he finished, he shouted, “Don’t go! Your blood vessels are blocked! You need to go to the hospital!” I said I didn’t have any money. He said, “You can’t leave. I won’t charge you, come with me!” I told him, “I have two children at home waiting for me to go back and cook. If I leave the children alone for a long time, what if something happens to them?” He had to let me go.
I had difficulty walking and I don’t know how I got home. Everything was spinning and I wanted to throw up but nothing came out. I gave the children an apple. I lay in bed and was unable to move. I kept reciting the Fa and begging Master to save me. I thought if I suddenly died it would undermine Dafa. I lay there all afternoon. My saliva soaked the pillowcase. When my sister came home and saw this, she was frightened and hurriedly called her husband who was working out of town. As soon as he saw me, my brother-in-law said that I’d suffered stroke and I must go to the hospital. I told them there was no need to go, as Master is in charge. They still insisted on sending me to the hospital.
I thought, “A Dafa disciple should be considerate of others.” So I said, “You are so busy. One of you has to stay here and watch the children. One has to drive me to the hospital and someone has to stay there and take care of me. How can you two take care of all this? Master will take care of me. Just help me turn on the MP3 player. I want to listen to Master’s lectures.”
My brother-in-law was skeptical but helped me adjust the MP3 player. My sister helped me sit up in bed and covered me with a quilt. I listened to the Fa teachings for four days. Without taking a single pill, I was back to normal. Both my sister and brother-in-law witnessed the miraculous and extraordinary power of Dafa.
After a few years, I returned to my hometown. One morning in the winter of 2018, I got up at 4 a.m. for my morning practice as usual. Suddenly, I felt a large black mass pressing against me, wrapping my whole body, except for my heart. “Master! Save me!” I shouted in my mind.
I kept reciting Master’s poems,
Ten thousand miles I gallop, breaking demons’ battle array Cutting down all dark minions, eliminating wicked deities I heed not their thick fog or the gale winds they whip about Mountain rains en route wash off dust from the expedition(“Expedition,” Hong Yin II)
With righteous thoughts and righteous actionsHe is diligent without letting up Eliminating demons that damage the Fa He is good to all beings(“A Righteous God,” Hong Yin II)
A Great Enlightened One fears no hardship Having forged an adamantine will Free of attachment to living or dying He walks the path of Fa-rectification confident and poised(“Righteous Thoughts and Righteous Actions,” Hong Yin II)
I gradually lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was still in bed. I was drenched in sweat. Through my third eye I saw that in another dimension my right hand was gripping a snake, preventing it from strangling me to death. When I looked at the clock, it was 1 p.m. The process had lasted twelve hours.
I wanted to attend the group Fa study at 2:00 p.m. I didn’t have time to change out of my cold and wet clothes. I didn’t bother to drink or eat. Instead I put on a jacket and stumbled to the Fa study site. The other practitioners saw that I looked pale and had me sit on the couch.
When it was my turn to read Zhuan Falun, I was too weak to read a single word out loud. The second time around, I could read a couple of words, and during the next round, I could read a sentence, and gradually I could read a page. I was vomiting blood. In order to not bother the others by getting up and going to the toilet, I brought a plastic bag and a roll of toilet paper. When I vomited, I vomited on the paper and quickly put it into the plastic bag. This went on for two weeks. I wasn’t afraid and I wasn’t in any pain. I was soon back to normal.
In June 2019, a large pustule erupted on my chest. It was itchy, painful, smelled and oozed pus. It soon spread and my entire body was covered in ulcerated skin. My clothes were stuck with pus, so when I changed them, the skin was torn off. I insisted on doing the exercises every day. When I did the stretching movements, the skin at my joints tore. I was in excruciating pain and I couldn’t sleep. The more pain I felt, the more I practiced the exercises and sent righteous thoughts. I practiced the exercises at least twice a day. When it was at its worst, I couldn’t wear clothes, so I wrapped myself in an old bedsheet. I still felt very energetic because I insisted on reading the Fa and practicing the exercises. I kept looking inward.
One day, two practitioners, a mother and her daughter, came to visit. I immediately found my fundamental attachment: Loneliness, missing my sons, and longing for the joy of family life. We exchanged understandings. I remembered my two poor sons. The mother said, “You are not alone. You have saved so many sentient beings, aren’t they all your family?!” My depression immediately disappeared! I realized: Yes, I am a Dafa disciple, and I’m assisting Master to rectify the Fa. Why can’t I let go of emotion?
During this time, neighborhood committee members kept harassing me to see if I was still alive. They also asked me to have my picture taken and sign some documents under the pretext of helping the poor. I told them, “Dafa gave me a new life, but you sent me to a brainwashing center and poisoned my water.” They walked away sullenly. A few days later, they came back and said that I was superstitious, that I refused to be treated with medicine, and that if I died it was due to my practicing Falun Dafa. I told them, “You poisoned me. Master is helping me push out the poison, and I will be fine.”
I firmly believe in Master and the Fa. After the New Year, I completely recovered. My skin was back to normal, smooth and delicate. The neighborhood committee members were amazed and no longer dared to come harass me.
I deeply realized that in the process of passing tests, we must believe in Master and the Fa and maintain righteous thoughts. Whether it’s illness karma, interference, or evil persecution, the outcome depends on how strong your righteous faith in Master is, and how strong your righteous thoughts are. You will be able to overcome the tribulation smoothly, and Master’s great compassion and boundless wisdom will manifest miracles.
Thank you, Master! Thank you, fellow practitioners!
(The 19th China Falun Dafa Cultivation Experience Sharing Conference on Minghui.org)