My Dear Friend, When Will We Meet Again?

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Falun Dafa practitioners held at the Sujiatun Concentration Camp in Shenyang City suffer from barbaric torture. Our fellow practitioners have their organs removed while still alive. Their corneas are removed and their bodies thrown into the crematorium, creating columns of white smoke which rose from the chimney. The whole world must severely condemn such demonic crimes!

My heart sank as I sat in front of the computer. I read the articles on the Internet and tears streamed down my face. I remember being detained at the Sanhe City Traffic Police Division in Hebei Province around January 1st, 2001, along with more than 100 other Falun Dafa practitioners from Sichuan Province.

Around January 1st, 2001, the Falun Dafa practitioners from Sichuan Province who came to Beijing to appeal for a stop to the persecution were mostly from poverty-stricken regions. They wore thin clothes, and some carried bamboo baskets on their backs (bamboo baskets are a speciality in Sichuan Province). They brought their children with them. In order to speak some heartfelt words in Tiananmen Square, they sat in a train for several days. They got off the train a few stops before Beijing, trying to avoid being arrested, and switched to buses heading to Beijing. They didn't expect that the police had blocked all the thoroughfares leading to Beijing. They were illegally arrested in Sanhe City, Hebei Province. They knew that they would either be beaten to death if they were sent back to their workplaces, or they would be sent to forced labour camps. Therefore they refused to tell the police where they came from, even as the police shocked them with electric batons.

Officials from the Sichuan Province Liaison Office in Beijing tried to pick out practitioners from Sichuan and take them back. The practitioners still refused to speak. Traffic police officers from Sanhe City, officials from Sichuan Province and officials from the Sichuan Province Liaison Office in Beijing said, "If you don't tell us your names, we'll send you to a remote concentration camp. If you are detained inside this camp, no one will know you're there."

On January 1st, 2001, an official from the Hebei Province Public Security Department came with a group of reporters. They were shocked when they learnt that I'm a professor at a university. They turned their cameras toward me. I said, "Master teaches us to be good people, and yet TV programs say Falun Gong harms and kills people. The government propaganda machinery is lying and creating slander." The reporters interviewed a few elderly women practitioners who spoke very well! Although they were not highly educated, their indestructible faith in Falun Dafa really moved me.

I also refused to tell my name. I thought, "If the local police take me back, they'll either send me to a forced labour camp or a brainwashing class. Also, my superiors at work could be adversely affected because I appealed in Beijing." Later on I gave my name. Officials from the Sanhe City Traffic Police Division wanted the officers from my hometown city police department liaison office in Beijing to come get me, but they couldn't get through on the phone. At the same time, the traffic police told my work superiors to come to Beijing and pick me up. I waited for an entire day but my superiors did not come, so the police released me. Several months later I learnt at work that the head of my university, along with five teachers came to Beijing on January 1st, 2001. Their plane was delayed by four hours, however, and they arrived thirty minutes after I left the police department. My train had just departed when the five teachers rushed to the train station in Beijing.

I started donating money in 1995 to help children who could not afford to go to school. For many years, I've wanted to visit poor mountain villages and experience firsthand the gap between the rich and poor in China. On the same day of my return from Beijing in 2001, I stayed at a friend's home for one night. I thought, "The city police are pursuing me, so I can't go home, and I can't go back to my hometown." I decided to leave the next day and go to a poor mountain village in Hunan Province. After I arrived in Hunan Province, I rented a dilapidated jeep and drove through mountain after mountain. I brought copies of the Falun Gong book Zhuan Falun with me and brought Truth-Compassion- Forbearance to the destitute areas in Hunan Province. I stayed there for more than fifteen days. Before I left, I gave copies of Zhuan Falun and a few hundred yuan to the local residents. Several months later I learnt at work that the villagers wrote two "thank you" letters for such a good teacher and sent them to my superiors, but they were not aware that I was on the "wanted by police" list.

For the past several years, the memory of the practitioners from Sichuan Province has remained vividly on my mind. Together we spent the most memorable days of our lives. I saw a woman practitioner in her 70s whose head was bleeding from a police beating. I walked up and confronted the police, "You asked her why she came to Beijing? She said, because Falun Dafa is good, Truth-Compassion-Forbearance is good, and that's why she came. What's wrong with that? You will be held responsible for beating her like this." The police officer then beat me and locked me in a room by myself.

Later in the evening I saw the police shocking Sichuan practitioners' faces with electric batons until they turned black. They beat and kicked the practitioners, and the practitioners rolled on the floor in pain. I couldn't hold back tears. We were held in a dark and cold garage. The weather was several degrees below the freezing point. We had not eaten or had any water for several days. Several women practitioners held each other and cried, and I burst into tears because I saw their faces were scorched and black from electric shock burns. A woman practitioner from Sichuan Province started reciting various sections from the Falun Gong teachings, and so we all joined her.

At the Sanhe City Traffic Police Division in Hebei Province, the Falun Dafa practitioners I met were simple, kind and pure people. Their faith in the practice was rock-solid. They never bowed their heads when confronted with electric batons. Some of them were young and some were old. They were magnificent! I really enjoyed talking to them. They held my hand and our eyes were brimming with tears. One practitioner said, "My dear friend, when will we meet again?"

When will we meet again? Most of the practitioners from Sichuan Province didn't tell their real names. I had just met them and spoken with them, and we were separated the next day, because the police took them away. The police said, "If you don't tell your names, we'll send you to a remote concentration camp. If you are detained inside this camp, no one will know you're there."

Now I will remain silent no more. My heart was bleeding as I learnt about the crematorium at Sujiatun and the columns of white smoke from the burning of human bodies. We must act with righteous thoughts and righteous actions to completely eliminate the evil!

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