By a Falun Dafa practitioner from Jinan City, based on a narration from an elder

(Clearwisdom.net) I am an 81-year-old woman and I'd like to share some personal experience that happened in my past.

My parents lived in the mountainous region south of Ji'nan City. Seventy years ago when I was still a young girl, there was a Taoist cultivator living with us. He was very kind and was my father's age, around 40 years old. Out of respect, he usually addressed others as if they were his elders. For example, he called my parents little grandpa and little grandma, and me little aunt.

He would help us out during busy farming seasons; other times, he wandered around as a doctor. When he came home, he wouldn't light the lamp and we didn't know what he was doing in the dark. He often said some strange words we didn't understand. Father always said he was a strange person.

Several events deeply impressed me when I was twelve years old. It was a fine day with a clear sky, but the Taoist wouldn't let us to go out and didn't want to tell us the reason. At noontime, the weather suddenly changed. Within a short time, there was strong wind and sandstorm. Large trees were uprooted and the roofs of houses were lifted off. It became pitch-dark. After about an hour, light started to reappear. The cultivator told us: "If one faces directly into the wind, they will get sick and layers of their skin will peel off. In the most serious case, people will die."

One year, there was a drought. After it rained for three days, villagers rushed to plant the seedlings, but the cultivator told us to wait. He said, "Let's lend our planting equipment to others. It won't be too late for us to plant ours when they finish planting. Three days later, there was another big rain and washed away everything people had planted. The field became soaking wet after the rain. He then urged us to plant without any delay, telling us that otherwise the crop would not come out well.

When my uncle got married, the cultivator asked my grandfather whether he could invite his teacher to have a drink. Grandfather told him: "You have been with us for so many years and we have never met your teacher. Let's invite him over."

After all the guests had left on the wedding day, we still didn't see his teacher. Grandfather asked him: "Why didn't you invite your teacher?" He answered: "He had come. It is because you can't see him."

A few years later, he said to my parents, "I am leaving now, because I can't cultivate here any more. If there is anything else that needs my help, just burn incense and call my name." Our family all thought this was odd.

A year later, my father had a malignant skin ulcer on his back. We spent a lot of money and still couldn't cure it. We then remembered what the cultivator told us: "Light incense and call my name, then I will come." He was a capable person after all, but could it be believable? Our family had no choice and we tried it.

During that night, grandma lit a bundle of incense and called out the cultivator's name. It was a cold winter and before daybreak, we heard knocks on the door. When we opened the door, the cultivator stood there with perspiration all over. Even his cotton-padded clothes were soaked through with sweat. His first words were asking what had happened. Mother told him about father's illness. After examining the skin ulcer, he said it was nothing serious and it was easy to cure. He carved out the skin ulcer and applied some medicine. Father was able to get up the next day.

During mealtime, he told my parents that they were not to burn the incense next time and that he couldn't shoulder this kind of respect.

Father asked him when he would come back to see us. The cultivator said, "When there are buildings on the mountain, water from the well flowing in the homes, the heads of the lamps facing down, half of the mountain gone, and dead people unburied, then I will return to see you. If such big changes happen, I was afraid that even little uncle and little aunt might not get to see what happens." Upon hearing these, father was scared and said that if dead people don't get buried, isn't it a catastrophe? Is there any way to divert the disaster? After my parents kept asking him, he then said, "People cannot see the beast's mark on their faces. One can only erase the mark to escape the disaster." All of us remember these words, but no one understood what they meant.

Today, after seventy years have passed, his first four sentences have materialized. We now have buildings in the mountain areas; have water connected to homes (people used to go to the stream or well to get water); the electric lamps are facing downward; and our mountains all have been mined so heavily that only half the mountain remains. Only the "dead people don't get buried" hasn't happened. And I still can't understand the meaning of "escaping the disaster." I always tell my children this story, but none of them believe it. They don't even want me to repeat it anymore. They said that we'd do whatever others do.

One morning not too long ago, I opened the door and saw a pamphlet in the door crack. I asked my children to read it to me. When I heard the Epoch Times, I suddenly remembered that the cultivator had told us that something by that name could foretell celestial phenomena. It read, "When Heaven wants to annihilate the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), all the people who had declared to join the party, the Youth League and the Young Pioneers, and those who had done all kinds of evil, have a mark on their faces. To avoid the disaster, one can use a nickname or an alias to declare a withdrawal from the CCP and its associations to eliminate the beast's mark on their faces and be saved."

I then remembered what the cultivator said: "The mark on the face is not visible. One needs to erase the mark to avoid the calamity." This pamphlet solved the mystery which had existed in my mind for seventy some years. It's no wonder that the pamphlet tells people to make a withdrawal from the CCP in order to be saved.

Our whole family understood it and declared to quit the CCP and its organizations. To save people, I thus asked my children to write this story down. Don't miss this opportunity. When the disaster comes, it will be too late to repent.

I am an eighty-some years old elder now and remembered that the cultivator had predicted the current events seventy years ago. I just hope that everyone will not put their lives at risk by not withdrawing from the CCP.

Posting date: 8/18/2006
Original article date: 8/18/2006
Category: Open Forum
Chinese version available at http://www.minghui.org/mh/articles/2006/8/5/134826.html

 Yearly Archive  Printer Version