(Minghui.org) I have been practicing Falun Dafa since 1998. I had always wanted to write about the many extraordinary experiences I have encountered over the years, but because I only had a few years of schooling I am pretty much illiterate. Fortunately, a fellow practitioner came to my aid and put my story into writing for me.
I only had a few years of elementary school education before the Great Cultural Revolution struck. It was thus difficult for me to read the sacred Falun Dafa text Zhuan Falun initially, and my husband did not want to help me. I asked my son to help and he told me to put phonetic notations next to the words he taught me. I thought that was a good idea so I started writing in the book.
I was working on Lecture Five when a fellow practitioner caught me writing on the book while she was visiting, “Don’t draw on a Dafa book! You mustn’t put any marks on the book at all.” I quickly put my pen down.
Not long after, I had the symptoms of the flu and my temperature climbed over 40 degrees Celsius (104 degrees Fahrenheit). My niece came to my house and while she was there she picked up my copy of Zhuan Falun and asked, “Aunt, have you bought a new book?” I told her I hadn't, but she was curious because the phonetic notations I’d made in the book were gone. I could see that she was right. It had become like a new book with no signs of any markings on it. Everyone in my family was amazed.
I had abnormal vaginal bleeding and was passing a terrifying amount of blood clots. My husband insisted that I go to the hospital. I told him, “This is to get rid of my karma. I am not going to the hospital. It’s my own karma that I have to endure. I can’t have Master Li (the founder) take on more of my karma.”
The same day, a fellow practitioner asked me to go out to distribute truth-clarification pamphlets with her. I was hesitant, “You think it’s okay for me to go out with this constant heavy bleeding?” “You will be fine,” she said. “We’re doing this to awaken people. Nothing will happen to you.”
Incredibly, my bleeding stopped while I walked around for half the day, but the moment I got home, it started again. Ignoring any treatment methods, I put up with it for three weeks and it then stopped abruptly.
That incident chased away any doubts my family may have had about the extraordinary power of Dafa. Everyone bought a copy of Zhuan Falun and started practicing.
I was on my way home from a village after visiting my folks. It was getting dark, but I wanted to finish posting a batch of the truth-clarification stickers I had brought with me. Riding on my electric motorbike, I pasted the stickers on walls lining the roads and on lampposts.
I was still five kilometers from home when the electric motorbike stopped dead. I checked the engine oil and it was fine, and there was nothing wrong with the bike. I talked to the bike, “You must be tired. You know we are in this together to awaken people. A lot of people will be saved when they read these messages in the morning. We are not far from home. You and I can rest when we get home.” Lo and behold, the engine came to life and moved forward slowly while I pasted my last sticker. I said to the bike, “Let’s go via the main roads now that I have finished with the stickers, rather than on the small side roads.” It must have been quite pleased with that for it took off as I pressed lightly on the accelerator.
I spotted a police car parked on one of the small side roads near my house. Three policemen were standing next to it and a few more were in the car. I sped past them and realized my electric bike had steered me away from trouble.
I live near the border of a neighboring province and have gotten to know some fellow practitioners who live in the other province. They did not get any news about Dafa, nor did they have any printed materials to give to the public. So I got in touch with practitioners who print these materials in my province. I now deliver printed Dafa books, Master‘s new lectures, and other truth-clarification materials across the border to practitioners who need them.
I once promised a practitioner across the border that I would make a delivery to her the next day. But it started pouring down rain that evening and I got worried. The persecution of Dafa practitioners was quite severe at the time. I was under surveillance and telephoning them was not an option. I made up my mind to go out because it would have been safer than staying in. In the morning, I took the printed materials with me, wrapped in layers of plastic sheets, and went to meet the practitioner as planned. Although it stopped raining, dark clouds filled the sky, which was accompanied by lightning and thunder. I thought I’d wait 10 minutes and go by myself if the other practitioner didn’t turn up. But she turned up, “Can we still go with the sky looking like this?” she asked. “We will be fine. Master will look after us while we attempt to awaken people,” I said.
We trudged along the flooded roads as the rain started to pour down again, but we did not get wet and our shoes remained dry.
When we arrived at the practitioner’s house she was surprised, “How did you stay out of the rain?” “We did not try to stay out of the rain. The roads here are quite rough,” the other practitioner said. The local practitioner told us the rain had just stopped. We realized Master had set a protective shield over us.
I went out of town with four other practitioners to distribute truth-clarification material. We split up into two groups. My group, consisting of myself and another practitioner, went west, and the other group went east. We covered the alleys one by one. Before I had a chance to finish distributing my materials, I felt that my left leg was suddenly grabbed by a large invisible hand, and I was nailed to the spot. I figured Master was warning us to not keep going. But my companion ignored my warning, so I said, “If you don’t want to listen to me, I am turning back by myself.” Just then his motorbike stopped and he came to the same realization himself, “Let’s go back. But my bike does not want to move.” I told him to lift his motorbike and turn it around. As soon as he did that, the bike came back to life.
As we came out of the village, a large spotlight shone on us, blinding us. We quickly turned into a small side road. Up ahead of us, about 20 to 30 people were searching around with their torches and screaming that they saw two people running off. We sought refuge in a local practitioner’s home. Her husband told us that the other three practitioners got into trouble. One ran off, one was arrested, and the last one was hiding at a relative’s place. The practitioner and her husband arranged for us to stay at her parents’ house.
We found out later that the practitioner that escaped spent the night hiding in a corn stack. It was terrifying for her when the farmers brought in their vehicles the next morning to move the corn stacks away to grind them up. All of the stacks were eventually cleared, except for the one she was hiding in. She waited until noon when everyone had gone to the local market and then blended in with people at the market.
The practitioner that had been arrested was released 10 days later after he went on a hunger strike. Out of an abundance of caution, he walked 25 km (15 miles) to get home.
There are just too many miraculous stories among us cultivators. We are still here today all because of Master’s protection. Thank you, Revered Master!