This is a record of an interview with Tang Congshan, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life and his subsequent journey through the realms of samsara. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Faxin, on November 1, 2024.
Tang Congshan speaks:
". I am filled with such profound gratitude to be able to reach the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss and to see the Buddha. Ever since I arrived in this magnificent realm, I have kept the holy name 'Namo Amituofo' constantly on my lips. I dare not be the slightest bit negligent. I am terrified that if I stop chanting Namo Amituofo, I might lose sight of the Buddha, or worse, that all of this might not be real.
Whenever such anxious thoughts arise, the Buddha, in His infinite , shines His light upon me, allowing me to feel a warmth and a sense of peace that words cannot describe. Today, I, Tang Congshan, along with fifty-nine other prison guards and countless other spirits, have arrived in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. My gratitude is boundless. I am eternally grateful for the compassionate grace of the Buddha and for the guidance of Practitioner Su."
A Mother's Resilience in the Face of Adversity
"My name is Tang Congshan. In my memories of my family, there is only my mother. Originally, because my maternal grandfather fell ill, my mother was 'sold' to my father in exchange for money, becoming the second wife of the Tang household. My father was only interested in her beauty. Beyond my father's affection, the rest of the Tang family held deep hostility toward her. My grandmother despised her for her low birth, and the first wife was furious that my mother had 'stolen' her husband. The other children would often speak to her with utter contempt, calling her a beggar who had schemed to secure the position of the second wife.
Even the servants treated her with cold indifference. Only Jinhua, the maid who stayed by my mother's side, remained loyal. She would often stand up for my mother, her face flushing with anger at the injustices we faced. Ironically, it was often my mother who had to comfort her. My mother had suffered since she was a child; she understood that the scenes and encounters of the present would eventually pass. Because of this, she always carried a spark of hope in her heart. She focused her life entirely on me, hoping that I would not be limited by the external circumstances we faced or develop an unhealthy mindset because of the cruelty around us."
The Flight from the Family Estate
"Originally, our entire family—including my grandmother, father, the first wife, several older brothers, sisters-in-law, and other relatives, sixty people in total—lived together in a grand estate. However, when I was eleven years old, my father offended a powerful local figure. Our entire family was branded with criminal charges, and we received word that government soldiers would arrive the next day to arrest us. After my father received a warning from a friend, he ordered everyone to scatter and flee.
In the middle of the night, my mother woke me up. She packed a few simple belongings, grabbed my hand, and we walked and walked. Neither of us could see the road ahead clearly, but I felt that my mother was single-mindedly moving forward. Her heart was filled with such urgency that even though I was exhausted, I did not dare to complain. When dawn broke, we sat on a large rock under a tree to rest. I asked my mother, 'Where are we going?' She did not answer, for she did not know either."
Finding Purpose in Simple Labour
"When we had regained some of our strength, my mother led me toward the countryside. Upon entering a small village, she approached the village head to ask if we could rent a place to settle down. The village head was a kind-hearted, elderly man. He was very helpful and immediately tidied up a small house behind his own, asking my mother not to mind its humble nature. My mother, with tears in her eyes, thanked him profusely. At such a critical moment, having a place to stay was a blessing, and she never stopped expressing her gratitude.
We had fled in such a rush that we had very little money. To survive, we began making and selling steamed buns. Seeing my mother kneading the dough with all her might, I would always step forward to help. When the buns were steamed, the fragrance that wafted out made me so happy. Seeing me smile, my mother would be happy too. Her buns were large and delicious, and the villagers loved them. Whenever she brought them out to sell, they were snapped up quickly. The villagers praised her skill and hoped she would make more, but my mother was only one person with limited strength. To ensure we had fresh buns every day, she hired a villager to assist her.
My mother started preparing before dawn every day. Kneading the dough required every ounce of her strength, and she would often collapse onto a chair in exhaustion by the evening. Seeing her fall asleep from fatigue broke my heart. She could see the pain in my eyes, so she would always tell me that she loved this life and felt very grounded. Back in the Tang household, she had been bullied constantly, and I had seen it all. But she would always say, 'We must live out our own true selves. Do not let the harsh words or unkind treatment of others cause you to belittle yourself. You must know that you will eventually find your own value in this world.' In every moment of difficulty, she made me feel that life was not actually that hard."
The Cycle of Samsara and the Life of a Brick
"In the village, my mother ensured I learned to read and write. In those turbulent times, she did not want me to pursue a career in government, but she insisted I learn the basics. At sixteen, I told her I wanted to help with the household expenses. I felt that as a man, I should be able to carry the burden. She had hoped I would continue my studies, but seeing my determination, she let me choose my own path. I chose to pull a rickshaw, travelling between several towns. Once, a passenger asked me why a young man with such potential would choose such work. I didn't know how to answer, but I remembered my mother's words: every profession is worth learning, and every person deserves respect. I remembered every word she ever spoke.
One day, I carried a man and, in the course of our conversation, discovered we had much in common. To my surprise, I realised he was my eldest brother. He had taken most of my father's wealth, and my father, unable to bear the shock, had passed away from a heart attack. My brother held tightly to the inheritance, and the three brothers began to fight, none willing to yield. In the process, they were discovered by enemies who dug many traps for them, eventually stripping them of everything they had. We argued over this, neither of us agreeing with the other. My brother's story filled me with sorrow. My mother had always said that since life was better now than before, we should just keep moving straight ahead. I wanted to persuade my brother to let go of the past, but he was too stubborn. In the end, I had to choose to let go myself.
While pulling the rickshaw, I encountered many people and saw the full spectrum of human life. I am so grateful to my mother for giving me such a simple life. I worked incredibly hard, hoping to provide a better life for her and to buy a house of our own. I strove toward this goal, but before I could fulfil that wish, my mother passed away. She had spent her life helping those in need, and after she was gone, I took up her work. At forty-six, I finally bought a house with my own earnings, fulfilling the wish I had held in my heart. I continued to pull the rickshaw until I had almost no strength left, persisting until the very day I could no longer do it."
From Prison Guard to the Western Pure Land
"One day, the weather was scorching. I felt dizzy and lay on my bed to rest. In a half-awake, half-dreaming state, I saw many houses, each brick and tile just as I liked. From then on, I kept returning to that place, watching the workers build the ideal home I had envisioned. One day, I heard the sound of a wooden fish, steady and continuous, followed by the sound of chanting Namo Amituofo. These sounds persisted, and I couldn't help but hum along. In an instant, the space I was in shifted. I found myself before the King of Hell. During the judgment, I realised I had died and had spent two hundred and ten lifetimes as a brick. It was only after becoming a brick in a temple and hearing the chanting that I was finally able to leave.
The judgment of the King of Hell surprised me; every past good and evil deed was recorded so clearly. The compassionate King of Hell, seeing that I had not committed any major evils in that lifetime, appointed me as a prison guard. During my time as a guard, I saw the suffering of the beings in the hells. They did not know how to let go, nor did they know that they could let go. Seeing the scenes of those suffering retribution in hell made me increasingly clear-headed. I am grateful that the sound of Practitioner Su's talks reached the hells, letting the beings know that they could escape. Many of us prayed for the chance to leave, our hearts constantly chanting the holy name of Namo Amituofo. I am grateful that I finally waited for this day, to be guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am grateful for all the Causal Conditions. I am grateful for the compassion of the Buddha and Practitioner Su toward all beings. Tang Congshan, with palms joined."
Note: Tang Congshan's mother, Huang Shuli, is beside the Ksitigarbha and has been guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Dharma Nature.
