(Minghui.org) One morning, my family and I went grocery shopping for a small gathering. At a vegetable stall beneath a giant sycamore tree, five or six women were selling their produce. After parking the car at the curb, I noticed an unfamiliar face—a woman in her 30s—and decided to buy vegetables from her.

My family often laughed at me, teasing me that I paid more attention to the vendors than to the vegetables. I especially liked approaching new vendors, as it seemed natural to start a conversation and share information about Falun Dafa. When I shopped, I never fussed over picking and choosing the best produce, never bargained, and never even rounded off the change. Instead, I would buy a little from several vendors as a way to show my appreciation for their hard work. Over time, I became a familiar and well-liked presence.

“Hi, could I have some cucumbers?” I asked. The vendor quickly stuffed them into a plastic bag and said, “I need to sell these fast. I have to go home—my hand hurts so much!” Concerned, I asked her what was wrong with her hand. She replied, “I burned it and it hasn’t healed yet. It’s so painful.” She held out her left hand to show me.

Her left hand was swollen to nearly twice the size of her right. The index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers were red and purple, and pus was seeping out. “Oh no,” I said, “your hand is already infected! In this hot weather, the pain must be unbearable. You shouldn’t be working outside like this.”

She began packing more cucumbers into the bag. I told her I couldn’t take that many, but she slipped in two more anyway. I figured she just wanted to finish quickly and go home, so I didn’t stop her until the bag was full. As I paid, I said, “Burns are so painful, especially in the heat of summer. I once went through something similar. Back in 1998, I was cooking porridge in a pressure cooker on a hot summer day when it exploded. I was burned so badly that I had to cut my shirt off with scissors. Even now, more than ten years later, I still carry the scar.” I showed her the mark on my hand.

“I was hospitalized for ten days and treated with IV infusions and burn ointment, but the burns refused to scab over and kept oozing. I couldn’t wash my hair or take a shower—it was unbearably painful!” Then I asked, “Guess how I recovered?” Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “How?” she asked.

By then, several other vendors had gathered around, listening intently. I raised my voice so they could all hear. “A friend suggested that I say, ‘Falun Dafa is good, Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good!’ That night, I recited it over and over, without stopping. And you wouldn’t believe it—the very next day, my burns were completely dry. I threw away all the medications.”

She looked at me in surprise. “Does it really work?” I smiled. “Some things science can’t explain. Falun Gong is a Buddhist teaching—it works! I believe it was a true manifestation of that fact.”

Just then, my children honked the car horn, urging me to hurry because they couldn’t find a parking spot. Several vendors called out for me to buy from them as well. I went over to an elderly woman selling green beans and continued my story: “Besides the burns, when the pressure cooker exploded, the metal knob on the lid struck me between the eyebrows. It shattered my glasses, and the lens cut two centimeters deep into my skin. I needed six stitches.” I pointed to the spot as I spoke. In fact, the scar is barely noticeable unless you look closely.

As I went from one stall to the next, I repeated my story. By the time I was done, I had bought more than I’d intended to. After paying and thanking the vendors, I got into the car and said one last time, “Remember to say, ‘Falun Dafa is good, Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good!’”

Just as I was about to close the car door, I heard several vegetable vendors shout together, “Falun Dafa is good! Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good!”

My heart was filled with joy for these precious lives.