By a Sydney practitioner
On late February this year, my father finally got to see his daughter after several attempts through different channels. It was the first time in three years that he was allowed to meet my sister. When they met, he found her crippled. He asked her why and discovered that for not giving up on her belief in “Truthfulness, Compassion and Forbearance”, the guards in the labour camp had hung her up for long periods of time. Her legs haven’t recovered since the torture.
She is twenty-one months younger than I am. When we were young, we sometimes quarrelled. In the end, she always reconciled with me first. She always forgives and forgets others mistakes – she is so kind and tender.
I remember a story when she was still studying at the Beijing No. 2 University of Foreign Languages. One day, she found that she had only ten dollars left from the living allowance her family had sent her. One cold winter day, she went to the shop and bought some food. She returned to buy some stationary the next day. The young shop assistant told my sister that she forgot to pay for her food yesterday. My sister remembered clearly the payment for the food using her last ten-dollar note. She knew that if she hadn’t paid, the bank note would still be in her drawer. The shop assistant begged her to go back and check, as she really felt sure that she hadn’t received any money. She told her that if she couldn’t find the bank note, then it will be the end of the issue. My sister agreed. The young assistant repeatedly thanked her.
She went back and checked her drawer. The ten-dollar note was still there. She quickly returned to the shop, handed over the money and said, “This money should be yours.” The young assistant received the money and offered her thanks for my sister’s honesty. Several days later, my sister heard bad news about the young assistant who had died in a car accident.
For the mid-term assignment, her teacher asked the students to write an article in Japanese. My sister wrote the story about the shop assistant. In her article, she talked about life and its ups and downs, the compassion of mankind and the desire for happiness. Her Japanese teacher came and asked her: “Did you write this story?” She nodded. “Is this a true story?” She nodded again. At the end, my sister was awarded with the highest marks for her work.
Now, I don’t know how long the guard in the labour camp has left her hanging. She was so healthy and kind, and yet they crippled her. She was tortured beyond recognition. Can her Japanese teacher recognise her now?
One day in May 2000, I called her. I knew she had been beaten heavily and her whole body was swollen. I didn’t know what to say to her. Instead, I asked: “How is the pain?” She didn’t answer me directly. She said calmly: “Teacher has helped me.” During the next few days, I called repeatedly to look for her. I was told that the Police went to her home to trouble her every day. Her husband had to send her back to our parent’s house. After a short time, our parents couldn’t stand the pressure from the Police. She had to move in with a former high school classmate.
I called her. She said, “Sometimes I don’t think I am worthy of protecting this Fa.” I hold on to the telephone and can’t speak a word. She has no complaint even after all this pain and suffering. Deep inside her heart, her Teacher is so mighty, and Falun Dafa so sacred.
During these three years inside the labour camp, she has been illegally detained, forced to do hard work without pay, beaten repeatedly by the guards and bombarded with lies. Despite all of this, she has not changed her kindness and tenderness. She has not changed her belief in the Teacher and Falun Dafa. Now the guards have resorted to the dirtiest ways of bodily torture, as they know that all of the other tricks they can come up with in the labour camp are of no use on a true Falun Dafa practitioner.
It is now autumn in Sydney. Night falls on this great city. Cold wind is gently knocking at my window. All the lovely birds have gone back to their nests. My dear sister, when will you come home?
Posting date: 13/Aug/2003
Original article date: 7/Aug/2003
Category: Insights
