I am Niu Huaqin, now 64, living in Anyang, Henan Province. Every time I look at my disabled right hand, a wave of remorse washes over me, and the events from more than two decades ago flood back into my mind.

In 1997, my husband died of illness. At home there was an elderly mother over seventy, two young children, and a pile of debt incurred during my husband’s illness. The weight of life suddenly fell on my shoulders, and I felt completely overwhelmed. To make a living, I opened a noodle processing shop. Neighbors knew my situation and showed great care, often coming to buy noodles from me despite traveling farther. Since the noodles I made tasted good and earned praise, I had a modest but stable income, and our family’s basic needs were finally secured.

In the spring of 1999, I came into contact with Falun Gong by chance. Misled by its teachings on “karmic retribution,” I came to believe ideas such as “karma accumulates across lifetimes” and “all illness and misfortune stem from karma.” At that time, I was struggling, and the words in those books felt as if they were speaking directly to me. I even thought that if my husband had encountered Falun Gong earlier, he might not have died, believing his illness was the result of “karma” and retribution. I also worried about my children and feared that if I stopped practicing, my “karma” might somehow be “repaid” through them instead. So, in an effort to “eliminate karma” and keep my family safe, I began to practice Falun Gong.

I became deeply involved, not only practiced and meditated, but also read the Master’s books, watched his videos, and listened to his recordings, doing everything exactly as required. To prove my loyalty to Falun Dafa and to quickly “rise to a higher level,” I spent 540 yuan on practice radios, tapes, scriptures, and badges in June 1999. For a family like mine, 540 yuan was a significant amount—a sum I had saved little by little, scraping by and counting every penny. Yet at that time, driven by my obsession, I bought the practice materials for Falun Gong without hesitation. Because I devoted all my energy to cultivation, my work suffered; the noodles I produced were not as good as before. Nevertheless, my neighbors, pitying the motherless and orphaned me, still bought noodles from me and kindly advised me to take good care of my family. But in my mind, I was intoxicated by Falun Dafa, and I wouldn’t listen to anyone’s good advice.

The Falun Gong was banned in accordance with the law in July, 1999. At that time, I felt that I had already cultivated to a “higher level,” even feeling as if Falun was turning in my abdomen. However, seeing the village’s former fellow practitioners all stop practicing, and with the encouragement of relatives and friends, my resolve began to waver.

However, that year, an event pushed me even deeper into my obsession. In August, my son, on his way home from school, collided with a motorized tricycle, resulting in a traffic accident. He suffered a large gash on his head, but thankfully his life was not in danger. Before, I would accompany him to and from school, but after I began practicing Falun Gong, I became so absorbed in cultivation that I could no longer go with him. I let my son make the journey alone. My negligence as a guardian led to my ten-year-old son suffering injuries that should never have happened. Yet at the time, I did not blame myself; instead, I convinced myself that his misfortune was the result of “karma repaid.” I even felt a sense of relief, convinced that by practicing Falun Gong I had received the Master’s protection—his “Dharma body”, otherwise my son might have died just as my husband had.

From then on, I became even more convinced of Falun Gong. I believed the Master’s teaching—that he “has planted the Falun in every disciple’s lower abdomen,” and that “the ‘Falun can rotate inwardly to rectify oneself and outwardly to rectify others.” To keep the Falun in my abdomen turning around the clock, I seized every spare moment to willfully rotate it in my mind. Whether at meals, while sleeping, walking, or even operating the noodle machine, I devoted every ounce of my attention to keeping the Falun turning. After the Spring Festival of 2001, my mind began to deteriorate, everything I saw seemed to turn into a spinning Falun: the bowls in my hands, the people passing by, even the noodle machine—all appeared to whirl like Falun. On the morning of November 1, 2002, at nine o’clock, while processing noodles, I diverted my attention to rotating the Falun in my abdomen. In that moment, the machine crushed my right hand, severing four fingers, leaving only my thumb.

Even after paying the price of “eliminating karma” by losing four fingers, I still did not recognize the dangers of Falun Gong. I believed the Master was testing me, and I pressed on with even greater fixation to prove my loyalty. In the spring of 2003, I faced legal penalties for participating in Falun Gong activities. Later, with the help and concern of anti-cult volunteers, I gradually came to understand the cult nature of Falun Gong and finally resolved to sever all ties with it, aiming to lead a normal life again.

Failing to eliminate karma did not just cost me four fingers, it wiped out all of our family's savings and pushed us into deeper poverty. Falun Gong only worsened the misery of our already impoverished household. Looking back, I am filled with immense remorse.

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