Many aspire to live to a ripe old age and experience a safe and smooth life with filial children and grandchildren. Some believers fail to do good deeds and pray to God daily, seeking blessings; should such people expect God to fulfill their prayers? Traditionally, people believed it was best to work hard to accumulate virtue, giving them a chance to “change one’s own life!”
The following story depicts the father as the main character, and his son recounts it. The son leads a prosperous life and career yet rarely goes home to fulfill his filial duty as a pious son.
A fortune-teller’s prediction
One day, I decided to take time off work to visit my parents. I found my father recovering from a severe illness and enjoying the cool air outside his gate. A fortune-telling gentleman happened to be passing by and stated loudly, “You are looking good for an old gentleman! You’ve just experienced a serious illness, haven’t you? Don’t worry, as the original life God granted you has been extended, and the Lord of Hell dares not take you in!” Upon saying this, the man laughed heartily.
My father asked me to bring a chair for the fortune-teller to sit on. The two of them began to chat, and the conversation became rather interesting. The fortune-telling gentleman said, “This old man has saved countless people, thus accumulating great blessings. His original life span was to reach only 64 years old, but God has increased his life expectancy by 20 years; he can now live up to 84 years. As a result, he has also accumulated blessings for his descendants.
I said that I did not believe this! Then my father warned me sternly: “This gentleman is telling the truth, and you must remember his words.”
After this encounter, we went inside the house. My father’s demeanor became serious, and he said: “I don’t ask about your work, just please remember: ‘Don’t tease people!’ I know much more than you do, and this fortune-teller spoke the truth! I did save the lives of an entire village, and that year, you were only eight years old.”
Labeled a ‘Rightist’
In 1958, my father was branded as a “rightist,” and the whole family was implicated. We were driven from the city into the countryside, where the entire family was forced to live in a straw shelter with only one wall against someone else’s house, and the other three sides were open to the elements. The place was extremely desolate. Fortunately, we met kind-hearted people in the village who took pity on us and helped us build the other three walls. This just barely sheltered us from the wind and rain.
My father was a technical authority in his former factory. After being kicked out due to an unfathomable label, the factory soon encountered a major technical problem that no one could resolve. Some machines stopped running, seriously affecting the factory’s production and operations.
As a result, a letter from the factory was soon sent to my father, stating that my father came from a poor family and was not a rightist, and he could remove his “rightist” label and return to work in the factory. My father was so angry that he resolutely refused to return to the city, stating: “The people in this village treat us well, so we will not go back!” My father bravely took his stance and refused to return to the factory.
Storing the grain to stave off starvation
Soon after, my father worked hard and became a Brigade Cadre. In 1958, steel smelting was implemented. In that era, grain, cotton, and oil were unified, and the trend to inflate production was prevalent, to the extent that all the pots and pans in every household were smashed and thrown into the steel smelting furnace. Every village was viewed as a big canteen, yet every household had barely enough food.
Most of the grain had been handed in, and little was left in the village’s warehouse. Unexpectedly, they received a notice that the county would send people to the village for inspection. What should they do now? Human lives were at stake! If the grain is taken away again, how can the villagers survive? My father was anxious and gathered all the village cadres overnight to discuss how to save the last bit of food.
Everyone brainstormed and, under my father’s command, found the most secluded place in the village and started digging a cellar. Everyone worked hard to hide the remaining grain. Another group of people, led by the team leader, harvested the remaining 10 acres of sweet potatoes in the dark under the moonlight and starlight. The situation was urgent, and even the women in the village went to the fields.
The front-end people used sickles to cut the seedlings, and then oxen plowed in the fields behind them. The men went back and forth, carrying loads of picked sweet potatoes to the cellar. Due to meticulous arrangements, the entire process ran like a well-managed production line. No one dared to speak loudly, light a cigarette, or make any mistake since the lives of the whole village would be in danger.
When the sky gradually brightened, more than 10 acres of sweet potatoes were harvested, and the food in the warehouse was stored. After a night of rest, my very nervous father finally breathed a sigh of relief, but suddenly, he felt dizzy and fainted on the ground. The villagers hurriedly carried my father home. Fearful, we were reduced to tears when we laid eyes on my unconscious father.
Passing the test by using flattery
Fortunately, my father was just worried and overworked and gradually woke up. After a short rest, he dealt with the county inspection team. The sweet potato field harvested that night had been planted with wheat. Under the bright sunlight, there didn’t appear to be anything unusual. The inspection team was thus very satisfied.
At the on-site meeting, they praised my father for being the first in the village to complete the winter sowing task with quality and quantity and then criticized him for being the most conservative team that delivered the least grain for the year. My father laughed it off and humored them, saying: “I must improve and strive to be the top grain delivery team next year!”
My father sighed and said: “I have resorted to stealing in this lifetime; now, I am a big thief who led the whole village to steal. To avoid making them suspicious, I asked someone to steam a large pot of sweet potatoes ready for noon and carry them to the warehouse so that each could have a full meal. I pity them!
“Although they are from the country, they don’t have enough to eat. Each is only given eight taels of grain daily, barely enough to eat! Before they left, I placed two sweet potatoes in each of their pockets and asked them to bring these home to their children. Even without saying a word, I could see their expression of gratitude!”
Inflicting self-blame over an old woman who starved to death
My father continued” “People say God is the fairest. I became a thief this lifetime, saved more than a hundred families in a village, and God increased my life expectancy by twenty years. I shudder to think back to those years when people starved to death. There were wailings everywhere, and countless people died. In some villages, more than a dozen families died, which is heartbreaking! In our village, there was no sign of a bloated person.
We fed anyone who took refuge in our village, whether parents, in-laws, children, or grandchildren so that they wouldn’t go hungry. We watered down our food when cooking, so everyone ate a meal, even if it meant we ate less. Human life is equally precious, and we must not let people who come to our village starve to death.”
My father paused momentarily and said: “At the beginning of spring in 1960, there wasn’t much food left, and food was the staple of life for the whole village! The place where the food was stored was top secret, and they could not disclose it to anyone. We had to send people to guard it day and night.
Two other village cadres and I took turns to be on duty. One day, I happened to be on the last shift, and while returning to the village at dawn, I passed a pea field closest to the village and saw a person lying on the ground. I walked to the front and saw that it was an old lady. I called her twice, but there was no response. I squatted down and pushed her and found that she was dead. She had a mouthful of pea seedlings stuffed in her mouth.”
Speaking of this, my father was so sad that he choked up so much and could not go on… After a while, my father said: “I returned to the village and got some men to bury the old lady. I didn’t dare to look when she was buried. I was on duty that day, and if I had found out earlier and handed her a hot sweet potato to eat, she wouldn’t have died. Even if I had only given her a bowl of hot water, she would have survived — how miserable!”
At that moment, my father’s brows were furrowed, and he was visibly tormented by self-blame, unable to escape. It could be seen that this old lady’s death had been haunting him for decades.
Dry sweet potato vines were initially used to feed cattle. When there was no food, they were soaked in water and mixed with dried sweet potatoes for people to eat as a meal. Having something to eat was a stolen “luck”! Think about those who could not endure waiting for a bit of food to fill their stomachs. However, we endured and finally made it to the wheat harvest. Our village had no food shortage; no one starved to death or had edema. God blessed us! Finally, the whole village was safe and sound, and we all got through the gates of hell.
At this time, the county urged me to return, and we had to leave. On the day of our departure, the Village Cadres, the Brigade Cadres, and the whole village came to see us off. Everyone was crying and pulling us back, reluctant to let us go. I was filled with tears of sorrow!”
Accumulate virtue, do good deeds, and God will bless you!
At this point, my father finally smiled with relief and said to me seriously: “Son! I have never wanted to become an official in this life. However, God arranged for me to be a village official for two years, saving the lives of the whole village and increasing my life span by twenty years.”
My father said: “Some things are destined, yet you don’t believe it! When she was alive, your grandmother told me the fortune-teller said I would live up to age sixty-four. When I passed the age of sixty-four and survived, I wondered if the fortune-teller had miscalculated. I understand since I am 80 years old this year and still have four years left to live. Since it is a gift from God, I still have to accumulate virtue and do good deeds to be worthy of God’s blessings.
“Living to eighty-four would prove that the fortune-teller had accurately seen my extended life span of twenty years. If I don’t live to the age of eighty-four or live beyond eighty-five years, then it will be up to you whether you believe it. Gods and Buddha will not cease to exist because people do not believe in them. You should tell the children the story of my life and teach them to do more good deeds and be virtuous. God will bless kind people.”
My father lived to the age of 84 and died 112 days later. Telling his story was also his last wish. He earnestly told me to tell everyone the law of nature: “Good will be rewarded with good and evil with evil.” It is the law of Heaven!
Translated by Chua BC and edited by Maria
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