This is a record of an interview with the spirit of Ben, who sought at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Nature. This account reflects upon his life in the forests of Melbourne. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Faxin, on November 30, 2019.
Ben speaks:
". I am Ben. In the quiet of the forest, my heart has always been exceptionally still. Chug-chug-chug—that is the sound of the train I have heard since I was a child. Because of this train, I developed a special attachment to it from a very young age. It felt as though wherever the train went, it could carry me back to my true home. My parents were loggers in this forest, and I spent my childhood weaving through the trees with them. The serenity of the forest brought me comfort. When I was small, I did not understand why my parents rarely smiled. It was only later that I realised they had been forced to live in this forest. I rarely encountered other people, so my playmates were the small animals, insects, leaves, and tree trunks of the woods. I would chat with them and talk to them. Although I could not hear them reply, when I quieted my heart, I felt that they were friendly toward me.
A Childhood of Labour and Longing
The small creek nearest to our home was where I bathed every day. We did not have enough water at home, so my parents would tell me to scrub myself clean there before returning. In reality, the creek was nearly half a day's journey from our hut. By the time I walked back home, the lower half of my body would be dirty again, but I did not mind. That is simply how I grew up.
When I was about five years old, I began helping my parents move the timber they had felled. At the logging site, there were other workers like my parents, as well as some foreigners who dressed differently. I saw how harshly they treated my parents and the other workers; they spoke without any shred of decency. Although I did not understand most of what they said, I knew it was not kind. As a small child, I wanted to stand up for them, but with my tiny frame, there was nothing I could do. My parents had also warned me very sternly: 'Never speak in front of these people, or you will be taken away to some place unknown, and we may never see you again.' Once I understood the gravity of the situation in my little heart, I dared not speak, even though I felt a deep sense of injustice.
The Rhythm of the Steam Train
Beyond the logging, there were others who had to cut the wood into pieces. Once finished, another group would load the timber onto the train cars and tie them down. About every five days, the train would let out that familiar 'chug-chug-chug' sound and depart for parts unknown. I would chase after the train, breathing in the scent of various woods. My parents had taught me to identify the trees, so even when the scents were mixed together, I could distinguish which wood belonged to which tree. I had endless fantasies about the train—I imagined hiding among the timber, being carried away to some wondrous, new place. But that wish was never fulfilled.
The people who managed the trains were foreigners, tall and burly. One day, I tried to speak to them, and they gave me a friendly smile. I gathered my courage and said, 'I want to help you manage the trains.' The train let out a loud 'chug-chug-chug,' and the foreigners used their language to urge everyone to work faster. I was left standing there, but I did not give up. Eventually, I managed to secure a job helping them repair the tracks. Although I could not be the one to drive the locomotive, I was satisfied just to hear the sound of the train every day. Because I helped repair the tracks, my parents were permitted to stop logging. We lived together in a small hut by the mountain until they passed away. I never left that forest; I went from a handsome young lad to an old man.
A Life Bound to the Forest
Throughout my life, I experienced the country under colonial rule and then its eventual opening. After the foreigners withdrew from the forest, all logging operations ceased, and the trains stopped running. The loggers were arranged for other work, and because of the unequal treatment they had endured for years, they received some compensation. When the government offered me a high-paying job at a city train station, I declined. I could not imagine a life away from the forest. Even without work, I insisted on living a simple life with the little money I had left. The forest was silent. I would move a chair outside, close my eyes, and the sound of the train would appear in my ears once more. That sound brought peace to my heart. In my spare time, I would often patrol the tracks, just as I had done in my working days. I kept the tracks in good condition, but many of the wooden sleepers had rotted away, which pained my heart to see.
Day after day, I lived a contented life. I had no major illnesses or pains, only the gradual decline of my physical strength. One day, feeling weak, I prepared a cup of tea and a few pieces of bread, then sat outside to bask in the sun. I closed my eyes and heard the 'chug-chug-chug' of the train again. I saw the train passing by and the image of myself as a child chasing after it. The corners of my mouth could not help but lift. It felt like a dream, yet it did not. I stood up, walked to the side of the train, and smelled the fragrance of so many woods. After I stepped out this time, I did not return to that aged body. In truth, I do not know how it happened, but I remained by the tracks, becoming a stone beside the railway.
Witnessing the Light of Deliverance
A long time passed before the trains began to run again. I was so excited to hear the sound of the train every day. The trains now are not used to carry timber, but to carry people. Many people come to see this forest, and I am happy for the train and for the forest. This makes me happy every day. Watching the people come and go, I see that everyone's heart is different. More and more people have hearts covered in dust, and their heads are severely blocked. Fortunately, after entering the forest, everyone can relax a little. This makes me happy for them, yet I also worry for them.
You may call me Ben; as I grew older, everyone called me Old Ben. I open my arms to welcome everyone to the forest and to ride the little train. But that day, I saw a certain carriage suddenly emit a brilliant light. I could not take my eyes off it. I saw that those emitting the light were Chinese people. Different auras emanated from their bodies. Then, I saw many spirits in the forest fly up, and very large beings in mid-air received them and took them away. I do not know where they went. I did not leave, because this place is what I have cared about most in my life. Based on the light I saw, I believe it is a very good place. If others in the forest can go there, I bless them. Old Ben's life was very ordinary. I know that the ones speaking to me now are those same Chinese people from that day. You all emit a light brighter than the angels. It is a pleasure to meet you. I know you are all good people who help others, and I hope everything goes smoothly for you."
