This is a record of an interview with Lin Yuanda, who sought spiritual deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life as a garment factory owner, his subsequent transformation into a spirit within the machinery, his service as a prison guard in the hells, and his ultimate deliverance by the of Practitioner Su. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on March 29, 2025.
Lin Yuanda speaks:
". Upon arriving in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, I immediately felt that this place was truly different. I felt as though I had been transformed, though I cannot quite put into words how that change manifested. It is a state of profound comfort, ease, and -. I feel as though a heavy weight has been lifted from my soul, replaced by a lightness and clarity I never knew existed in my previous lives.
I represent all the prison guards in expressing my deepest, most sincere gratitude to the compassionate Practitioner Su. It was Practitioner Su who set his heart on guiding us, these prison guards, giving us the precious, life-changing opportunity to come to the Western Pure Land. Without his intervention, once our duties as prison guards were concluded, we would have quickly fallen back into the endless cycle of rebirth. I do not know where our next destination would have been, but regardless of where we went, it would have been a place of suffering and darkness. That is why we are so incredibly grateful; we never stop making prostrations and chanting the name of Namo Amituofo to honour his grace."
A Childhood Forged in Hardship
"I am Lin Yuanda, and in my human life, I was the owner of a garment factory. My factory was not large; I employed about a dozen staff members, all of whom were women. I had four brothers, all very close in age, each only a year or two apart. After my mother gave birth to my youngest brother, my father suddenly passed away from a heart attack. That event changed our lives forever, as my mother was left to raise all five of us on her own, facing a world that seemed indifferent to our plight.
As the eldest, I understood more than my younger brothers. After my father left us, I witnessed firsthand just how much pain and hardship my mother endured. I remember when he passed, I was about thirteen years old—not quite an adult, but old enough to understand the gravity of our situation. Seeing my mother cry her heart out every single day, yet forcing herself to appear strong in front of us to shoulder the burden of the entire family, broke my heart. I felt such deep sympathy for her. I remember telling myself repeatedly, 'I must grow up quickly. I must grow up as fast as I can so I can earn money to help Mother and stop her from having to work so hard.'"
The Weight of a Mother's Sacrifice
"To support us, my mother took on many different jobs. Our neighbours knew how desperate our financial situation was, so whenever there was temporary work available, they would recommend her. No matter how exhausting or difficult the task, as long as she had the time, she would agree to it, begging them to save the work for her. Many times, I wanted to tell her to stop, but I knew she would never listen. If she didn't work, what would we eat? Her hands were always busy, her brow always furrowed with worry, and yet she never complained to us.
When I was about sixteen, my mother began working at a garment factory. It was a new business, opened by someone who had just moved into our village—a stranger to us. When the owner began hiring, my mother applied and was quickly accepted. Because the factory was so close to our home—only a five-minute walk—it was very convenient for her. She could come home at noon to cook for us and check on the children, which was a small mercy in our otherwise difficult lives."
A Mentor and a Father Figure
"I often went to the factory to help out, though there was not much I could do. Mostly, I helped my mother by organising the fabric she needed to sew, saving her the effort of reaching for it so she could feed it directly into the machine. All the employees were housewives, and in those days, every family was struggling to make ends meet. They were all so happy to have this work; they cherished every moment, sewing as many garments as they could because every extra piece meant more money for their families. It was a community of struggle, but also one of quiet resilience.
The owner was kind to all the staff, but he was especially good to my mother. He knew how hard she worked, raising five children alone. He had also grown up in a single-parent household, raised by his own mother, so he understood her struggle. That feeling of shared experience made us feel very close. I called him 'Uncle,' and whenever I visited the factory, I would go into his office to chat. The office was small, as the factory was modest, but he preferred it that way. I often sat by his desk while he worked, and we would talk. He enjoyed our conversations because he saw a reflection of his own childhood in me. He shared so much of his life experience with me. Through these talks, I learned that he had opened this factory as a wish for his own mother. Furthermore, he operated it with the intention of helping women like mine, providing them with more opportunities to work. He became my idol. Suddenly, I didn't feel so alone anymore. He was like a friend who helped me when I felt down, making me feel understood. It was a wonderful feeling to finally have someone who knew my pain, so I didn't have to face that helplessness alone."
The Legacy of Compassion
"Because we spoke so often, he knew everything about our family. He would frequently bring us gifts and snacks, and my brothers and I were always overjoyed. As I grew older, he and my mother developed a deep bond, and eventually, they married. He became my stepfather. He cherished my mother and insisted she stop working, telling her to stay home and rest while caring for us. After they married, she no longer worked at the factory, and she finally had time to do things she enjoyed. It felt as though the clouds had finally parted for our family.
However, my mother’s fate was truly difficult. Just as she had finally found a good husband, it ended too soon. Eight years after they married, he passed away in a car accident. After he was gone, the entire factory was left to me. I knew it was his life's work and his heartfelt wish. I fully identified with his vow to help those women, ensuring they had steady work without having to struggle to find employment. I took up the mantle with a sense of duty and honour, determined to keep his spirit of compassion alive through the work we did."
From Machine Spirit to Deliverance
"After I took over, I managed the factory with great care. We often had items with minor defects—a small hole in the hem or a collar that wasn't quite right. While these flaws were small, they couldn't be sold, so they were usually discarded. I collected all these 'defective' clothes and sent them to people in remote mountain areas or disaster areas. Every time I sent these clothes to those in need, I felt a special joy. It felt as though I was helping people and making my stepfather's factory shine even brighter. I knew the exhaustion those women felt. Sewing is tiring work; sitting in the same position all day causes immense pain in . But to support their families, they had to endure it. I often wanted to give them raises or bonuses during the holidays to reward their hard work. Because of this, our team was very united, and our products were of high quality. I spent my whole life running that factory, and in my later years, I dedicated a portion of my income to charity. Before I passed away, I had to close the factory as there was no one to take it over. A year or two later, I left the human world.
My spirit became the sewing machine in the factory, continuing to sew fabric every day. I worked hard within that machine, wanting to create good clothes for those in need, especially the impoverished who could not afford them. My heart was kind, and my intention was to help others, so those who used my machine felt it was exceptionally easy to operate, and the quality of the work was superior. After about thirty years, I finally had the chance to leave that space. I was brought before the King of Hell, who assigned me the duty of a prison guard. During my time serving in the hells, I deeply felt the suffering of every being there, yet I was powerless to help them. I was also puzzled by how some beings, despite enduring such immense suffering, still clung to their stubborn personalities and refused to repent. Later, I heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks. I finally understood the Buddha’s teachings and learned that chanting 'Namo Amituofo' could save everyone. I began to encourage others to listen to Practitioner Su’s talks, to chant, and to openly repent. A few years later, I made a vow to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. To my joy, I was placed on the list to be guided by Practitioner Su. I am so happy and so fortunate. I continue to chant without ceasing, and together with the other fifty-nine prison guards, we knelt to express our gratitude for the Buddha's grace. Gratitude to Namo Amituofo. Gratitude to Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo. Lin Yuanda bows in reverence."
