(Minghui.org) I was born in the 1990s. My mother began to practice Falun Dafa, also called Falun Gong, when I was six years old. She frequently took me with her to her friend's home to watch the video of Master Li's (the founder)lectures, or when she did the exercises at a practice site. Sometimes my father went with us. I could see the Falun law wheel spinning in the Falun emblem, and I could see Master's Fashen (law body). Master's Fashen spoke to me several times. I really liked to listen when my mother read the Fa and Dafa was deeply rooted in my young mind.
My mother was an elementary school teacher. Guided by the principles of Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance, she was nice to her students and their parents and worked diligently. She did any assignment that was given to her. The school administrators and her colleagues all liked her. She was regarded as an excellent teacher. The teachers liked me and thought that I was bright and sensible. My childhood was bathed in Dafa and surrounded by the love of my father, mother, grandmother, and grandfather. My classmates admired me and I had a happy childhood. I would have lived happily if the persecution hadn't begun.
I benefited from my mother’s practicing Falun Dafa, and was rarely sick. A few days before my college entrance examination in 2007, I was hit by a motorcycle. I was pushed hard against a power pole. When I regained consciousnesses I was in a hospital. I felt fine so I got out of bed. I knew that Master had protected me, so I went back to school. I always carried a little Falun Dafa amulet with me, and often repeated, "Falun Dafa is good!Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is great!"
The principles of Dafa have been deeply rooted in my heart, so I know how to behave. When my mother was illegally sentenced to jail, I did not follow the crowd blindly, and did not feel depressed. I worked while I studied, and I passed the national examination within three years. I successfully obtained an undergraduate certificate. I found a new job that I like. I also met my husband who loves me. All of these wonderful things are due to Master's protection and blessing.
We collided with a big truck when my husband drove me to the mall. Our car was seriously damaged, but we were safe. I am grateful to Master for protecting our family again.
When I was 9 years old, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) began persecuting practitioners. My grandma, who just started practicing Falun Dafa passed away. My mother went to Beijing to petition for the right to practice Falun Gong and was illegally detained. There was no one to take care of me and my grandpa who was paralyzed. We often had no food to eat. My father often got drunk, and lost his temper. I was so scared that I hid in my grandpa's room. During the Chinese New Year in 2000, my grandpa and I cried, and we only had instant noodles to eat. My grandpa was worried about my mother, and I missed her. I often cried and called out to her in my sleep.
After more than two months, my mother returned home. She was emaciated. Our once warm and cheerful home was gone. Instead, I was surrounded by fear and constant worry. I worried that the police would take my mother away again. My father was given a long break from his workplace to watch my mother at home. He limited her freedom. Under high pressure, my father felt that he lost face in front of his relatives and colleagues, so he blamed my mother for everything and he often quarreled with her. He tried to stop her from practicing Falun Dafa.
One morning in June 2000 when my mother was getting ready to go to work the police suddenly broke into our house. They shouted at my mother, "Are you still going to Beijing?" She replied, “Yes!” The police grabbed my mother's arms and tried to drag her out. I cried and shouted, holding her clothes and trying to stop the police from taking her away. The police took my mother away in front of me.
Two days later more than 30 of my mother's students bought daily necessities and planned to visit her at the detention center. I followed them. The police did not allow us to see her, but the students refused to leave. The police called our school principal, and the principal was very angry and yelled at us. Then he brought the students back to school. My father also went to the detention center with the principal. He kicked me into the ditch on the side of the road in front of everyone. Not only did I not see my mother, but I was also kicked by my father. I was very depressed.
The police told my family to force my mother to give up practicing and used every method to intimidate and threaten her. At noon one day, it was raining. My father told me that he would take me to see my mother. He took me to the gate of the detention center and said, “Your mother doesn't want you. I don't care about you, either. Now go to your mother!” He left me standing alone at the gate of the detention center. I stood in the pouring rain and shouted, “Mom, come home!” I stood there weeping for a long time, but did not see my mother. Later, a kind person called a taxi for me, and sent me home.
Tears covered my face whenever I think of the past. I didn’t understand at that time why my kind mother was taken away by the police, why the good people were persecuted, why such a good practice was not allowed! I was alone, and my classmates would not play with me. Some even discriminated against me. Fear, loneliness, pain, and confusion left a deep scar in my young mind.
This time my mother was detained for over 60 days. My family conflicts escalated after she returned home. My father was often drunk, swore, threw things to the floor, beat my mother, and threatened to divorce her. The school deducted my mother’s salary and made her clean the school’s bathrooms and hallways. She was afraid that I would be hurt even more in such an environment, and decided to send me to a middle school out of town.
At that time, I was only 12 years old. I left my mother and my family and I could hardly take care of myself. Loneliness was always with me, I worried about my mother, and fear still surrounded me although I attended the school far from home.
I went back to school in my hometown in my last year of middle school. My room teacher was a classmate of my mother and a Falun Dafa practitioner. She was very kind to me. My family lived far from school, so it was not convenient to go home. She let me and another female student stay with her at night. She was so kind and beautiful. Her students all loved her. Later, when I was in high school in another city, she came to my school, and encouraged me to study diligently. She gave me a hundred yuan before she left so I could buy food. I missed her very much, but she was illegally arrested and sentenced to jail before the Beijing Olympics Games in 2008. She was persecuted to death in 2011. Every time I think about her, I feel very sad, and wonder why such a good person was persecuted to death.
Before the Beijing Olympic Games in 2008, my mother was arrested again. I burst into tears when I heard the news. The pain and sadness in me were impossible to describe.
My grandpa died of high blood pressure after he learned about my mother’s latest arrest. My father was hospitalized. In order to alleviate the pressure on him my father wanted to divorce my mother. This series of blows struck me hard. I missed my mother. I felt inferior to the other children. I was envious of the children who had mothers. I dreamed of seeing my mother.
At that time, I was doing an internship in another city. Weekends and holidays were unbearable for me, especially during the Chinese New Year. During holidays the others went home, and were reunited with their families, while I had nowhere to go. I was alone and sad. I often cried in silence. I was afraid that my classmates and colleagues would ridicule me.
My mother was sentenced to five years in prison, and was taken to the provincial women’s prison. My father divorced her, and lived with another woman.
I was only 18 years old, but my spirit collapsed. I felt that I was an orphan, lonely and helpless. My family was gone. I just started to work. I had many questions to ask my mother. I was not mature, and not strong enough, I needed my mother’s support. I didn't understand why by following the principles of Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance, my mother was arrested, and why she was sentenced to such a long prison term. Loneliness and pain were like a big rock pressing on my heart.
Three years later, I went to prison for the first time to see my mother. In the prison hallway, I finally saw her. The moment I saw her, tears blurred my eyes. I shed tears on one side of the glass that separated us, while she wept on the other side. I had a lot to tell her, but I hardly said a few words before the time was up. I watched helplessly as she was taken away by the guards.
On one of the meeting days, the prison guard told me to persuade my mother to "transform", to give up her faith so her term would be reduced and she could go home early. As soon as I saw my mother, I cried my heart out and vented the pain that had been suppressed for years. I wept and wept, and couldn’t say a word. My mother also burst into tears. But she didn't want to betray her Master, or Dafa. I understood. I also knew that Master and Dafa are the best. I reluctantly left.
In July 2010, the prison guard called me and said that my mother was ill and needed money for surgery. I didn't believe it because she had always been healthy. I thought it was a lie. But I was worried because after all, she lived in such a harsh environment. So I told my mother’s brother and sister. They were also worried about her, so they gave me some money. Then I went to visit my mother in prison.
I saw my mother in the hall on the first floor of the Prison Administration Hospital. She was wearing handcuffs. Her hands were tied together, her face was pale, and a tumor as large as a child’s fist stuck out of the right side of her neck, so her head slanted to the left. She was surrounded by four guards.
My heart hurt so much, and tears swirled in my eyes when I saw my kind mother suffering so much just because of her belief in Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance. She looked at me affectionately, trying to comfort me, but could not say a word. I did not know what to say. I missed her so much.
She entered the operating room, while I anxiously waited in the hall, hoping to see her again. Her health condition and our financial situation made me worried and extremely sad. I could not see her or talk to her. I could only wait outside.
Later the attending doctor told me that my mother had lymphatic tuberculosis, and there were two big vesicles on her neck and right shoulder. A test needed to be done after the surgery to know whether it was benign or malignant. The vesicle on her artery affected her breathing. I told the doctor about our situation, and he was very sympathetic.
I helplessly waited for the diagnosis. The image of my mother handcuffed and surrounded by four guards lingered in my mind, causing irreparable pain. I was not allowed to see her, or to call her. I didn't know how the operation went. I waited at the hospital for three days but I didn't hear anything. I had to go back to work.
Later, I learned that she only stayed in the hospital for six days because she didn’t have enough money. She was taken back to the prison and made to do forced labor before the wound healed. In less than a year, the illness came back again, but she did not tell me.
I heard that a male practitioner’s organs were harvested while he was alive. He had been sentenced to jail together with my mother. I sincerely hoped that my mother could leave the demon-like jail as soon as possible.
The day my mother was released from prison, the 610 Office staff took my father to pick up my mother. They tried to force my mother to write a guarantee to quit practicing Falun Dafa in order to be released, but she refused. Then I was told to sign without my mother knowing it. In order to get rid of all the troubles, I signed.
My mother’s left eye kept jumping, her left face was twitching, her mouth slanted, and her entire face was distorted when she stepped out of the prison gate. She looked a lot older. My once healthy, young, and beautiful mother was a shadow of herself.
My father and I insisted that she go to a hospital for a check-up. She was found to have uterine fibroids, right breast hyperplasia, and deep lymphatic tuberculosis. I wanted to take my mother to the city where I lived, so I bought her ticket, but the people from the 610 Office didn’t allow her to leave the city.
All of my mother's illness symptoms gradually disappeared after she started to study the Fa and do the exercises. She recovered without going to the hospital for surgery, and without taking medicine or injections. My father and our relatives witnessed the power of Falun Dafa. The relatives who previously slandered Dafa changed their views. They all agreed that Dafa is great.
My father completely changed. He remarried my mother, and now knows the truth about the persecution. He supports my mother in her practice of Falun Dafa. He has also been blessed. He enjoys good health, and many diseases he had before have disappeared. Now he has peace of mind, a nice job, and our family is harmonious. He also began to read the Dafa books.
Looking back over the 20-year-long persecution, I lost my happy and warm family. I experienced great sadness. But my experience is just the tip of the iceberg that Jiang Zemin (the former CCP leader) and the CCP regime have brought to the tens of millions of Falun Dafa practitioners.
But I feel fortunate that I have benefited from Dafa and know how to be a good person. In the future, I will always remember that, “Falun Dafa is good! Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is great!” I will also begin practicing because I know of Dafa’s preciousness and greatness.