(Minghui.org) Falun Dafa practitioners in my area organized a group a few years ago, focused mainly on face-to-face conversations to clarify the truth. We broke up into several groups and went to different areas to talk to people about Dafa and the persecution, rain or shine.
After the pandemic, we became seriously aware of the urgency to save people, and realized that relying solely on this method had its limitations, such as how much of an area we could cover and how quickly. Also, the poison instilled in people’s minds by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) sometimes cannot be cleared up with just a brief conversation, and the time we had for in-person interactions was limited. A lot of people don’t end up really understanding the truth, so we decided that informational booklets could help fill in the gaps. We began distributing them once a week.
Since several practitioners would be going to the same residential complex, we decided to scout the location in advance to determine the layout of the complex and locations of the surveillance cameras. We then figured out who would distribute to which building and which units.
I would then bring different practitioners each week and decide exactly which buildings and units to distribute booklets to. Because everyone’s family and work schedules varied, I had to make appointments at different times with different practitioners to check the locations. This was time-consuming and labor-intensive.
As we became more familiar with each other and cooperated better, we no longer had to study every detail in advance. We began by assigning the next week’s distribution location, and fellow practitioners would then coordinate naturally. Before starting the distribution, we would agreed on a meeting place to ensure that everyone returned safely.
My human attachments were exposed many times while I was delivering booklets.
One time, another practitioner said she had already covered an area before. That made me feel quite uncomfortable, so I asked myself what attachments were causing this discomfort. I discovered a strong attachment to fame and a desire for praise. I felt like she was showing off, and this made me resentful, irritable, and impatient, especially since I felt I had just identified that neighborhood.
I later learned that it was years ago when she had distributed there. Another one of my human mentalities was exposed, as I then started to look down on her, thinking, “You came here years ago, so why mention it now? Aren’t you just trying to show off?”
When we were checking distribution locations, sometimes a fellow practitioner wouldn’t understand me or got confused about the address, or if someone was late, I would start complaining to myself, “This practitioner is so slow and not with it.” I later realized that I was the one not speaking clearly, which confused other practitioners.
While cooperating with fellow practitioners, I also discovered attachments such as not wanting to be corrected, showing off, jealousy, arrogance, egotism, and vanity. These attachments made me impatient, and I was prone to complaints and irritability. I was often emotional, full of rhetorical questions, and sometimes even sarcastic. These were all manifestations of deeply-rooted CCP culture.
To better cooperate and save people, I put aside my pride and shared honestly with the group. That made me realize I was domineering, and subconsciously expecting others to listen to me. I was often aggressive and lacked compassion. Sometimes, during discussions, I was arrogant, stern, and bossy. I often only laid out half of what I wanted to say and expected the others to guess the rest.
While writing this article, I realized how deeply the CCP culture has poisoned me. This toxic substance severely hinders cultivators from assimilating to the Fa. I silently asked Master to help me eliminate these attachments.
I’ve since focused on listening to Minghui Radio’s compilation Eliminating CCP Culture and paying attention to correcting my words and actions according to Dafa’s standards.
We’ve been delivering booklets every week for several years now. One time, there was a torrential downpour, just as we were planning to go out. Worried that the other practitioners hadn’t brought umbrellas, I grabbed all the umbrellas I had at home and went to meet them.
It was pouring, and the wind was fierce. Leaves and branches were scattered everywhere, and the water flooding the road reached my ankles. When I got to the meeting point, all the others were already there. Seeing them all standing under the eaves of a building moved me deeply. Only Dafa practitioners, for the sake of saving people, would remain undeterred in the face of such weather, and take hardship as joy.
After we finished, a practitioner in her 70s, who lived the farthest away, had to catch a bus home. Worried she’d miss the last bus, she headed out into the rain early. By then, the water in the streets was nearly up to her calves. She thanked me repeatedly for the umbrella as rushed off into the storm to catch her bus.
Watching her disappear into the rainy night, my eyes filled with tears. Over the years, countless scenes of Dafa practitioners persevering in saving people flashed through my mind. This senior practitioner worked as a nanny to help with household expenses, and yet she still managed to carve out time in her busy schedule to help save people.
She wasn’t good with directions. Once, after we finished giving out booklets in a residential community, she got lost and couldn’t find her way out. We waited a long time and then began to search for her. Throughout the ordeal, she didn’t panic or complain. Small things like this happened often, and they truly helped us experience the many joys of cultivation, leaving us with precious memories on our path.
We went out to deliver booklets on a night in early April 2024, when the area’s biggest sandstorm hit. Dust filled the air and clung to our clothes, faces, and eyebrows. One practitioner forgot where we were supposed to meet after finishing. I waited at the agreed spot for a long time. Seeing it was late, I decided to call to see if she had returned home. Only after confirming she was safe did I feel comfortable leaving. By the time I got home, it was already past 10, and my mouth was full of dust, but I felt happy inside.
Over the years, we’ve distributed booklets in remote neighborhoods in the summers, and nearby ones in the winters. When there was a lot of snow and no public transportation, we would walk to our destinations. This persistence helped us steadily improve in our cultivation. Along the way, many attachments were exposed and removed. We all became more tolerant and understanding, and we were able to coordinate more smoothly.
When one of us sometimes encountered difficulties delivering materials, we reminded them to send forth righteous thoughts and study the Fa calmly. Then, at group study, we’d send righteous thoughts together to support each other. By persevering, we overcame laziness and tempered our will and resilience as cultivators.
In May 2024, the practitioner who usually made the materials for us said his copier was broken, and he couldn’t continue to provide us with weekly booklets. I took out an old printer that hadn’t been used in a long time and assumed the responsibility of printing the materials. This made my schedule even tighter. I had to organize every day like clockwork, including buying paper and ink, printing, binding, then distributing the booklets to each practitioner. Whenever I had anything else to do, I had even less time and would have to print late into the night. Whenever I went out, I tried to run several errands at once. My daily life was packed, yet very fulfilling.
Through the rains of summer, the snows of winter, and the winds of spring, we’ve left behind our footprints on the way to save the precious Chinese people. We’ve experienced the joy of saving people and the sacredness of cultivation.