(Minghui.org) I am 54 years old. Years ago, my cousin attended a lecture series by Master Li and felt that this Fa was truly wonderful. After the series ended, he came straight to my home. My father had long harbored a desire to cultivate the Dao; he was constantly seeking a master or the Dao here and there, earning him the nickname “half-immortal” among the villagers. Following my cousin’s visit, my father, mother, and older brother became the first in our family to begin practicing Falun Dafa.
In 1996, I visited my parents with my son, who was three or four at the time. In the evening, while the others practiced the exercises, my son and I slept on the large kang (heated brick bed). As I drifted in and out of sleep, I listened to the exercise music, which was absolutely beautiful, as if it were slowly drifting down from the heavens, with a wondrous quality that defied description. After they finished the exercises, I told my mother, “That exercise music is so beautiful; it sounds like it’s coming from the heavens.” Hearing this, my mother said, “You have a predestined connection with this Fa.” She then gave me a copy of the book Falun Gong to take home and read.
At the time, I had only been married a few years and was seeking a role model for how to conduct myself. My mother-in-law was kind-hearted, a truly good soul in our extended family. In contrast, my husband’s aunt was calculating and nitpicky; she ensured she never lost out in any interaction or situation, whether in word or deed. I thought, “Since my in-laws’ home is now my home, I should learn from her—I shouldn’t let myself be taken advantage of or bullied.” Now, after practicing Dafa for so long, I now feel a sense of dread when I remember that thinking. Had I not begun this practice, I would have been swept up in society’s moral decline.
Whenever I had some free time, I read the book and was immediately captivated. After reading it once, even though I didn’t retain all the details, the principles Master taught—to be a good person—really struck a chord with me and instantly shifted my worldview. I realized that there was a practice in this world that taught people to be good. How wonderful. I knew I had to learn it. Dafa took root in my heart that day.
Gradually, I came to understand that cultivation requires improving one’s xinxing. At the time, my husband’s sister was unmarried, and the daily chores of cooking and doing dishes were a source of constant bickering and rivalry; we were always comparing who did more work and trying to outdo one another; it was mentally exhausting. After practicing Dafa, I read the teaching about “regarding suffering as joy.” I thought, “It’s just work, does it matter who does more or less?” So, I started doing what needed to be done and stopped worrying about having to pretend to be hardworking. As a result, I lived every day happily. Dafa was truly transforming both my body and mind.
My son had just started elementary school when lumps began forming at the corner of one of his eyes. They would rupture and heal, then reappear, a cycle that lasted for over a year. Elders in the village urged me to have a doctor look at him, warning that he might be left with a permanent scar if the condition persisted. However, I didn’t take it too seriously. Believing in the power of Dafa, I felt that my son would naturally benefit from my practice and would eventually recover.
One day, two classmates walked my son home from school. I noticed his eye was bleeding. One of the girls looked terrified and explained that she had accidentally kicked him near the eye while playing, causing the injury. She was his desk mate, whom my son described as a very lively and mischievous girl. Seeing the situation, I understood it in terms of the “transformation of karma” taught by Master. Perhaps this kick was the catalyst for his eye to heal. I viewed it as a positive thing and remained calm, reassuring the girl not to be afraid and telling her that his eye would be fine. Sure enough, that single incident marked the end of the problem. His eye healed completely, the lumps never returned, and there was no scarring.
This was our first encouter with the miraculous power of Dafa. More than 20 years have passed, yet my son still remembers what happened. Whenever the incident was mentioned, he would say that the girl’s kick was what actually healed his eye. I am truly grateful to Master for healing my son.
When our son reached the second year of middle school, his grades were merely average. He told me, “Mom, with my current grades, getting into high school might be a struggle.” I told him to spend a few minutes each day reciting, “Falun Dafa is good, Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good,” explaining that it could open his wisdom and intelligence. Later, whenever I called him from out of town where I was working, he said his grades were improving. He said he recited the auspicious words every night before bed, and when the time came for the high school entrance exams, he passed them without difficulty. He attributed this success to reciting “Falun Dafa is good” and striving to be a good person.
In his second year of high school, my son’s academic performance improved dramatically, and he was quickly placed in the honors class. When he took the university entrance exam, he performed exceptionally well, earning the top score in liberal arts in our region. The news caused a sensation in our area. The high school had never produced such a student before, so they hung celebratory banners, and the story was even featured on television. Relatives called to say it was like getting a university student “for free.” His grandparents were illiterate, his parents worked away from home, and the boy hadn’t attended a single tutoring class, yet he had somehow managed to achieve such outstanding results.
He became a role model for other students, and his story circulated throughout our community for a long time. I know this was a gift from Dafa and Master, proving that when one person practices cultivation, the whole family benefits.
One day, my older brother, sister-in-law, and several other practitioners drove to another area to distribute truth-clarification materials, when the police stopped them and took them into custody. For several days, there was no word about them. I consulted with the mother-in-law of another practitioner, and we decided to check whether they were being held at a local police station. When I met the officer in charge, I said, “The children are at home crying for their mothers; I’ve come to see if they are being detained here.” The female officer asked for my name. As soon as I stated it, she said, “We’ve known your name for a long time. We’ve been looking for you but couldn’t find you, and now you’ve delivered yourself right to our door.” I replied, “The children are at home crying for their mothers, and I’ve come to ask what law they broke.” Just like that, I, too, was detained at the police station.
That afternoon, my father came to see me and then notified my husband, who came to secure my release. The police station said that if we paid a 2,000-yuan fine, they would let me go. I refused to pay, but my husband paid the fine behind my back. It wasn’t until we returned home that my father-in-law told me the fine had been paid.
My husband had been laid off from his regular job and was working on a construction site. The work was grueling, and making money was a real struggle. I thought, “Why should I give that money to the police? I haven’t broken any laws.” I decided I had to call their bureau chief (I had his number from previous dealings). With Master’s strengthening, I got through to the chief and said, “Director, I have to go to Beijing; I simply cannot go on living like this.” The chief was alarmed and asked, “What happened?” I explained, “My brother and sister-in-law hadn’t been home for days, so I went to your town’s police station to ask if they were there. They detained me and fined me 2,000 yuan. I have to go to Beijing to seek justice.” Upon hearing this, the chief said, “Don’t worry, I’ll resolve this for you; I guarantee your money will be returned.”
Two days later, the chief of our township police station called to ask me to come by to collect the refunded fine. My father-in-law tried to stop me, saying, “You can’t trust the Communist Party’s word, would they ever spit out money they’ve already swallowed?” I replied, “It’s fine; I haven’t broken the law, so what could they possibly do to me?”
The next day, I walked into the police station with my head held high. As soon as we met, the police chief was very conciliatory, saying, “We got the money back for you. On what grounds did they detain you? You’re from our township; they had no right to hold you. The bureau chief held a meeting yesterday and gave their station a real dressing-down over this.” With that, she handed the me money. I am so grateful for Master’s protection.
Over the years of practicing Dafa, I have experienced so many miracles that I hardly know where to begin writing about them. Throughout my journey spanning more than two decades, I have been fortunate, thanks to Master’s unwavering care, to follow the path of cultivation.
The Dafa projects I work on were established with Master’s strengthening and guidance. Since my husband does not practice Dafa, I carry out my Dafa work without his knowledge. Whenever I want to work on a project, he will coincidentally have a social engagement to attend, and I will start the work as soon as he leaves. Often, he returns just as I finish. At times, when I still had a little left to do, I might hear him talking in another room, but he doesn’t come in to see me. Yet the moment I finish, he will immediately walk in.
One day, just as I started working, I noticed a few flies buzzing around the room. I wondered if I should first get rid of them, because the buzzing was quite distracting. Then I realized I didn’t have time, so I thought, “I’ll just immobilize them.” After that brief thought, I focused on my work, forgetting about the flies. When I finished, I found three flies with their heads stuck together, motionless in a comical pose, while others nearby were also motionless, looking as if they were dead. Upon closer inspection, however, I saw they were still alive. I realized that my earlier thought had taken effect; the flies had been immobilized. Dafa is truly miraculous. As long as our thoughts are righteous, our supernormal abilities assist us at all times and in all places.
For the past few years, my husband and I have worked at a company owned by a relative. Business was tough. The company dormitory housed several employees, including us. To cut labor costs, the company laid off the worker responsible for cleaning the dormitory and asked the woman who cleaned the factory area to add an hour to her daily shift to clean the dormitory hallways and two restrooms. She complained that an hour wasn’t enough—it took more than an hour to finish the job—and asked for extra pay. Seeing that we had little to do in the office during the afternoon, I figured I might as well put the idle time to use. I told my relative (the boss) that I would clean for an hour each afternoon. I suggested they stop paying someone to clean the dormitory and let me do it instead; I would treat it as a form of exercise. The boss was pleased and agreed.
I worked diligently and finished the cleaning very quickly. I decided to use the remaining time to work on my Dafa project while in the dormitory. With this mindset, I found myself with even more spare time the next day. Eventually, I completed the cleaning in just over 10 minutes—it was truly remarkable. I knew Master was helping me, freeing up a significant amount of time for my project. Later, I realized I couldn’t keep doing this secretly forever. With Master’s strengthening, I overcame my fear. Often, my husband would be on the sofa scrolling on his phone while I sat at my computer across from him, working on my project. He never once realized what I was doing.
I am deeply grateful for Master’s constant care and strengthening. It is only through this that I have been able to make it to where I am today. Master is patiently urging us on from the finish line—the destination toward which we are striving.