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Does practicing Falun Gong bring fortunes and blessings?

2012-07-20 Source:Kaiwind Author:Narrated by Zhang Jun, and written by Yun Cai

My name is Zhang Jun. I was born in 1930 in an impoverished mountainous village. My dad died at my age of 8 and my mum at 10. I joined the Army at 16, and retired after demobilization. I was then living in the No. 2nd Building of Hongsheng Residential Estate, Jinan, Shandong Province. Having so filial a son and a daughter and with well-off economic conditions, I was leading a happy life.


The year 1996 was a turning point in my life. I encountered my wife’s sudden death before Spring Festival, and my son’s conviction of embezzlement the following April. Haunted by the nightmare and dreadful reality of these two accidents, I no longer trusted anyone. In the Mid-Autumn Festival of 1996, a former subordinate of mine introduced Falun Gong to me. Honestly, I had no interest at the beginning. But when he came to talk about the “Truthfulness, Compassion and Tolerance” and “becoming good people” it pursued, I was moved. With uncertainty, I started to attend the lectures and visit the practitioners at the park.


I bought books such as “China Falun Gong” and “Zhuan Falun”, and read word by word. Intrigued by the world of Fa’s Consummation and supremacy, I then woke up at 4 a.m. to read Fa-related books, listen to tapes and watch videos, and write down experiences late at night. Slowly, I was becoming placid, mild and happier and healthier than before, which I thought, was the blessings of practicing Falun Gong.


Because of my good method, quick learning and deep understanding, and the reality of being a retired officer with public influence and prestige, I was soon elected instructor in charge of our community. A neighbor of mine had been mobilized after I visited him by a walking stick for seven consecutive days, and more than fifty people were inveigled into practicing Falun Gong by me, including my daughter, my nurse and former subordinates.


My daughter Hui, a mild, kind and diligent girl from baby, was a precious jewel to me. After she was married and had a child, she still visited me every day, which was praised by the neighbors. To help me as an instructor in charge of more than 70 practitioners, Hui was responsible for co-ordinations and contacts among people, transcribing scriptures and exchanging experiences. Hui was busying both taking care of the family and promoting Fa. My son-in-law and my grandchild were opposing her on her practicing, and for several times prevented her from regular cultivation. For that reason, I harshly criticized her as being distracted and not whole-heartedly devoted. Feeling that it was profane for my daughter to sleep with her husband while cultivating, I didn’t allow her to go home from then on. Dissatisfied with her absence from home, my son-in-law always had quarrels with her.


In the December of 1996, nearly a month after Hui left home, she received an emergent call asking her to go to the hospital. My grandson Xiao Bao (or Little Precious), had a fever of 39.7°C, he kept crying “mum, will you abandon me for practicing Falun Gong?” Hui was crying, too. Accidentally, there was going to be a Fa discussion activity the next day, so I asked Hui to go home and write practicing experiences. Unhappy with my daughter’s obedience, her husband shouted to her: “you boasted yourself to be kind and to do well, why don’t you care about your sick child in stead of practicing, you are so cruel!” Xiao Bao clutched her hands tightly, sobbing and begging in a husky voice: “mum, don’t go, stay with me!” I said, “While promoting Fa is the most important mission of our practitioners under heaven, sentiment is the fatal obstacle of cultivation. With the blessings of Fa, Xiao Bao will be safe and sound.” I tore off the boy’s hands, shove my so-in-law aside, and led Hui out of the ward in ignorance of Xiao Bao’s bitter crying. Totally beyond endurance, her husband divorced her soon after words.


After divorce, Hui lived with me in my house. Later on she abandoned job, concentrating on her cultivation. To celebrate her “new life”, I turned her name into Minghui in the Spring Festival of 1997, meaning “brightness and wisdom”.


One day, I found my daughter hiding in the toilet and calling her son. I bumped the door open, and snatched the phone and smashed it broken, blaming her to be distracted by fame, profit and love. From then on, Xiao Bao had never been mentioned in conversation, but my daughter became skinny, low-spirited and absent-minded. Besides, she always misspoke and did wrong, and often stared at the window blankly, a symptom incurable by my harsh criticism.


In the May of 1997, Hui was getting too weak to get up, thus she could only practice on bed. Seeing that her conditions were turning bad, I was worried and called for a dozen practitioners to dispel the “demons” for her by reciting the scripture “Hong Yin”. We had recited hundreds of thousands of it in six consecutive days and nights, begging Master Li’s blessings for her cure. At last, her sickness had no sign of getting better even when we were all exhausted. At 5 a.m. on 13th May, 1997, Hui suddenly sit up straight, a scene I conceived to be blessings from the Master. I was over-excited and held Hui’s hands tightly. But she murmured without seeing me: “I’m going to see my mum.” And instantly, bitter tears rushed down from her eyes that closed for ever.


Mixed feelings of sadness and hurt rushed to my head: “Master, why can’t you save a man if you claim to be the omnipotent Buddha? Is the death of my daughter the fortune and blessing you promised?”


After learning my misfortunes, the volunteers from the community had heart-to-heart talks with me. Convinced by their exhaustive analysis, I woke up completely from the nightmare. However, I have lost my dearest daughter for the rest of my life.

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