(Minghui.org) My son Xinyu is 10 years old. We lived in Malaysia until this year when we moved to the United States.
Before Xinyu learned to read he enjoyed listening to the recordings of Master's lectures. His memory was good and he was able to remember some of Master's words. At just six years old he read Zhuan Falun with me for the first time. He had not yet learned to read Chinese but was able to recognize more than 80 percent of the characters in the book after just one reading. He started to do the exercises when he was seven years old and was soon doing a full hour of the sitting meditation in double lotus.
Back when Xinyu was only four years old, he would go with me to a tourist location where I would clarify the truth. For several years he would accompany me on weekends and vacations from school. He would distribute flyers, hold banners, and even collect signatures. All the practitioners liked him and so did the tourists. Tourists would even ask to have their photo taken with him.
Xinyu started school at age six in Malaysia. He was the only Chinese student in his multi-racial school, and in the beginning, the other students ignored him because of his skin color. Some students bullied him, but he never fought back even though he was tall and strong. He often helped others, and when others were bullied he would try to comfort them. His fellow classmates began to like him and he developed some good friends.
Xinyu was usually the last student to leave the classroom because he stayed back to help clean the room. During the lunch break one could find Xinyu washing the dirty dishes. His teacher noticed how helpful he was, but she eventually made a schedule so all the students would take a turn washing dishes.
One day, a boy at his school threw a canned drink at Xinyu. It hit him in the face, and by the time he got home, his face was swollen, blue, and bleeding. It was painful until he held his palm up as if sending righteous thoughts, even though he had not yet been taught to do that. He did not hate the boy; instead, he shared his snacks with him on the bus. It was not long before the boy was Xinyu's friend.
Xinyu would also go to the end of the line when getting on the bus so that the other students could get on first.
Once when Xinyu was eight, some older boys were chasing him, and he fell hard. His knee was bleeding when he got home. The next day Xinyu was crying quietly in bed. His leg hurt so much he could not get up. When I tried to help, he cried out in pain.
Xinyu continued to cry, which frightened me, but I knew that he and I were facing a big test. I managed to calm myself and think over the situation. I was determined to believe in Master.
Xinyu was in pain for two days, unable to move. He drank water but did not eat, and he became noticeably thinner.
On the third day, Xinyu stopped crying. He still could not move his leg but said, "Mom, the pain is much less now. Master endured the pain for me."
I was glad that he had righteous thoughts. The next day, I told him that only Master can help him, and that he should try to do the exercises. He agreed.
Xinyu still had pain in his leg but tried to sit up. Eventually, he was able to get into a sitting position leaning on pillows. He did the sitting exercise for 15 minutes while crying silently. I knew he was in severe pain.
The next day he did another 15 minutes of the exercise. The following day, he could stand up for several minutes with support. When he stood up, I could tell by the fit of his slacks that something was wrong with his femur.
The day after, he said he should do standing exercises too. He did the first and third set. The following day, he was able to walk a bit. He was very happy.
I was worried his right femur might be broken, and feeling like I was not taking care of my son, I took him to the hospital for an X-ray.
The X-ray was taken on the wrong leg, not the injured one. The doctor apologized and offered to redo it.
I knew it was Master giving me a hint. I should not have gone to the hospital, and Xinyu said he would be all right with Master's protection. I said to him, “You are right. Let's go home.”
After we returned home, Xinyu kept listening to Master's lectures and doing the exercises. On the seventh day, he was able to walk to a nearby snack shop. "Master took most of the pain away,” he said. “There is only a little bit left for me to endure. I will be fine very soon."
Three weeks later, he was completely recovered. "I passed a test of life and death," he told me. "It was Master who protected me. If I were not a Dafa practitioner, I might have become handicapped."
Master healed Xinyu. The experience is unforgettable. That a child could be so brave and diligent is itself a miracle of Dafa.
We moved to the United States when Xinyu was 10 years old.
There were not many Chinese students in his American school, and in the beginning, he was sometimes bullied but never fought back. He was sympathetic to those classmates because they did not practice Dafa. He said he would treat them well and turn the bad karmic relationships into good ones.
Once, a boy wanted to hit Xinyu. Xinyu told the boy, "Let's arm wrestle. If you win, you can hit me. If you lose, you leave me alone.” Xinyu was strong, and none of the boys could win when they arm wrestled him. None of the boys bullied him anymore.
A girl in his class also often insulted Xinyu and even threatened to beat him. "I am not going to fight a girl,” he told her. “And you should know it is not good for you to insult others.” He became her friend and her personality improved—she stopped insulting others.
Xinyu followed the principle of Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance in his daily life, and he helped his classmates whenever he could. He often said that Master told him to be good and to have a good karmic relationship with everyone.
http:/www.minghui.org/mh/articles/2016/6/15/十岁小弟子的修炼故事-330057.html