We offer our deepest gratitude to and to Practitioner Su. Today, we, the sixty prison guards from the hells, have successfully arrived at the of Ultimate Bliss. It is truly difficult to find the words to describe our current state of mind; we feel a that transcends ordinary happiness and a sense of gratitude that goes beyond words. Seeing Namo Amituofo right before our eyes, our hearts are finally at peace. Everything has come to an end, and we have finally broken free from the heavy shackles of the cycle of rebirth. Our hearts are calm, steady, and filled with profound thankfulness.
My name is Huang Wanlong. I must admit that finding myself in the role of a prison guard within the hells was a great surprise. I never imagined such a thing could happen, and I certainly never expected that I would one day have the opportunity to reach the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Before I became a prison guard, I did not live in the human world as a person. I existed as a spirit, but a spirit that had lost its freedom, trapped within a wooden statue. I could not blame anyone for my confinement, for the one who carved that statue was none other than myself.
In the lifetime before my spirit entered the statue, I was a woodcarver. Throughout my life, my greatest passion and my most dedicated work was woodcarving. It was both my hobby and the skill that earned my living. I created countless works, and many pieces of furniture in people's homes bore my craftsmanship. By simply carving a few patterns, I could transform an ordinary piece of furniture into something entirely different, significantly increasing its value. However, my most satisfying works were not these commercial pieces, but my own private joy: the carving of statues.
The Smile of Maitreya
These statues were created slowly, using time outside of my professional obligations. They were not part of my work orders; they were my personal passion. I never sold these statues, as I wanted to keep them for myself. Because each statue required so much time and effort to complete, they were as precious to me as life itself. I could not bear to let them leave my side, so I kept them all in the backyard of my home. I believed I could spend my entire life doing what I loved. When my backyard became crowded with statues, I planned to purchase another plot of land to house my new creations. Yet, the impermanence of life is always beyond our expectations, and no plan can keep pace with the shifting tides of change.
At the age of forty-two, I completed a piece that brought me immense satisfaction. It took me nearly a year to finish because the carving was incredibly delicate. The wood itself was a rare and precious material that I had spent a long time seeking. This was my first time attempting such a work: a statue of Maitreya . Before I began, I studied and researched for a long time. I was worried that if I made a mistake, I would ruin such precious wood, so I proceeded with extreme caution. Finally, I succeeded in completing a truly dignified statue of Maitreya Bodhisattva. I had always loved Maitreya Bodhisattva. Since I was a child, I would smile at images of him, and so my own smile was learned from him. My open and optimistic heart was also taught to me by the Bodhisattva. Maitreya Bodhisattva helped me find happiness in my life, and I hoped that others could learn to smile like him, filling their own lives with joy.
The Unseen Transition
Driven by this intention, I decided to share my work with others for the first time. I wanted everyone to see this statue, believing that anyone who saw it would be moved to smile along with the Bodhisattva. Eventually, the statue was placed at the entrance of a shop owned by a friend. Every customer who entered would see the statue, and they could not help but take a second look, their faces softening into smiles. I would stand nearby, watching their reactions. Their smiles made me happy, for this was exactly the result I had hoped for: to bring the laughter of Maitreya Bodhisattva into the human world. This success gave me greater confidence, and from that day on, I shared all my works, hoping they would bring joy to everyone.
I became so absorbed in my carving that I often forgot to eat or sleep. When I reached the age of fifty-seven, I suddenly fell ill. Lying in my hospital bed, I had no family to care for me. My parents had passed away long ago, and I had never married; I had always lived alone. Fortunately, a few close friends came to visit and helped me buy groceries. Every day, I would muster the strength to get out of bed and cook a little porridge, just enough to survive. However, my body grew weaker with each passing year. At the age of sixty-three, I could no longer hold on. Before I died, I called my friends, and they all rushed to my home. After I gave them instructions on how to handle my affairs, I had nothing left to worry about. I lay quietly on my bed, my breathing becoming shallow. I knew that soon I would not be able to take another breath; it was time to leave the human world. In the final minutes before I passed, I recalled my most satisfying work: the statue of Maitreya Bodhisattva. As I thought of him, a smile appeared on my face, and I felt a surge of joy. With that smile, I took my final breath.
from the Void
After my spirit left my body, it followed the thought I had at the moment of death and entered the statue of Maitreya Bodhisattva. Upon reflection, I realised my spirit had not entered only at that moment; it had likely begun to merge with the statue shortly after I finished it, though I had been unaware. Thus, when I died, all my gathered within the statue, becoming a spirit trapped inside. Within the statue, I existed in a space within a space. I was still carving that statue, smiling as I worked, fully immersed in the joy of wanting to bring laughter to the world.
I remained inside that statue for over sixty years. I was able to receive the merit of the joy the statue brought to others because my original intention had been to spread happiness. Perhaps it was because I had accumulated enough merit that one day, a person who practised Buddha-recitation appeared before me. He stood in front of the statue for a long time and began to chant the name of the Buddha. I am so grateful that he chanted; the clear, resonant sound of the Buddha-name helped me awaken from that space. My spirit was then brought into the hells, where I was assigned to serve as a prison guard. The connections of are truly subtle and profound. Everything that happened was beyond my expectations, yet it all unfolded exactly as it was meant to.
Serving in the Hells
In the hells, I never forgot to chant the Buddha-name, for it was this very name that had helped me escape my confinement. Only after leaving the statue did I truly begin to understand the importance of chanting. A few years ago, I heard a voice echoing from the human world into the hells. I was astonished that anyone’s voice could penetrate the barriers of space. It was Practitioner Su. At the time, I did not know who Practitioner Su was, but I began to listen to his talks and witnessed his performing in the hells. As I learned more, my respect for him grew immensely. Every time I listened to the teachings, my heart was filled with Dharma joy, and I developed the aspiration to save other beings. I used the teachings I heard to guide the suffering inmates, awakening their inner Goodness and encouraging them to repent, helping them find salvation from the hells.
Later, I unexpectedly received the news that I had been placed on the list of those to be led by Practitioner Su to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I was overjoyed! Today is the day I have arrived in the West, and my heart is filled with profound gratitude. I am deeply thankful for the of the Buddha and the compassion of Practitioner Su.
