The Jailer's Redemption: A Journey from Darkness to Light

This is a record of an interview with Huang Pao, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life and his time as a jailer in the hells. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on February 4, 2023.

Huang Pao speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Huang Pao. After wandering for so long, I have finally found my way home. Sixty of us, who served as jailers in the hells, were guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss today. Every one of us wept with joy, myself included, moved beyond words by the boundless compassion of the Buddha and Practitioner Su. I am eternally grateful for their mercy and their tireless efforts to save beings like us."

A Life Defined by Selfishness

"When I was born, the doctors discovered a small tumour in my head. Though it was not large, it affected me significantly. The doctor asked my mother, 'Should we operate?' My mother, trembling with anxiety, asked, 'Is surgery absolutely necessary?' The doctor replied, 'You could choose not to, but the nature of this tumour is uncertain, and the child’s life may not be long.' I was born into a life of extreme poverty, relying entirely on my mother. As for my father, my mother was never certain who he was, as she had once used her body to earn money. I was simply brought into this world without a clear lineage.

Living with a brain tumour from birth hindered my development. It was obvious to everyone that I was slower than other children, and I became a frequent target for mockery. Combined with our poverty and my mother’s past as a hostess, we were constant subjects of gossip. Growing up in such an environment was excruciating. I possessed an intense sense of pride and arrogance, and I could not bear to be spoken of in such a way, nor could I accept being ridiculed or looked down upon. For a time, I felt my mother was a source of shame. I would avoid walking beside her in public and never volunteered that she was my mother. Looking back, I was incredibly unfilial.

I was blessed with a handsome face, the kind that women found attractive. I discovered at seventeen that I could use this to my advantage, trading on my looks to secure the affection of women. Desperate to escape the home that brought me such shame, I ran away at nineteen with the daughter of a wealthy family. We moved into a house her father had gifted her and began a life of sweet, secluded luxury. We chose this path because I could not face my family, and she wished to escape her father’s strict discipline. We were both running from pain, seeking refuge in each other."

The Mirror of the Brain Tumor

"For nearly two years, we lived together. Her father came looking for her, but she was resolute and refused to return. Eventually, he relented, deciding to let us experience the hardships of the world to teach us a lesson. During that time, I was profoundly selfish. Every thought was directed toward my own benefit, even in my relationship with my partner. When we eventually moved back into her father’s home, I deliberately curried favour with him, performing and acting the part of a devoted suitor, all so he would accept me as his son-in-law and eventually hand over his business and inheritance. My mind was a constant, churning engine of calculation and planning. Such a mindset was truly wretched, yet at the time, I was oblivious to it. I was consumed by the desire to secure my own status and avoid the misery of my past.

Just as I finally gained her father’s approval and our wedding was set for six months later, the retribution I had never believed in began to manifest. The tumour in my head grew larger with each passing year. I had ignored it for so long, but it began to cause severe headaches and eventually pressed against my facial nerves. The doctor warned me that soon my limbs would be affected, leading to a loss of mobility, and eventually, it would threaten my life. Hearing this felt like a rollercoaster ride—I had reached the peak of my ambitions only to be plunged into the lowest depths. I could not abandon the vast empire I was about to inherit, so I followed the doctor’s advice and underwent surgery to remove the tumour.

With my fiancée by my side, I lay on the operating table. Before the anaesthesia took hold, my mother’s face appeared in my mind. I had not seen her in years and did not know how she was faring; I had not even told her about my wedding or the surgery. In that moment, I felt a pang of guilt, but the anaesthetic soon pulled me into darkness. During the surgery, while my physical body was unconscious, my spirit was awake. I left my body and hovered in the space above, watching the procedure. Every detail was terrifying.

I saw not only the surgery on my head but also a massive, demonic entity—a demon—standing directly above me, laughing with a chilling, hollow sound. I was utterly shocked, yet I gathered the courage to ask, 'Who are you? Why are you standing on my head?' He continued to laugh, then his face twisted into a ferocious expression. 'I am you,' he said. I was stunned. 'I am me, and you are you. Why do you say you are me?' He replied, 'I am your selfishness. The more selfish you are, the larger I grow.' His words struck me like a lightning bolt. I realised that my brain tumour was a physical manifestation of my own deep-seated selfishness. It had been this way in past lives, and it was the same in this one, which is why I was born with it."

A Mother's Love and the Path of Filial Piety

"After the long surgery, I was moved to the recovery room. When I awoke, my head was in agony, and my entire body felt wrong. But I ignored the pain. I had only one thought: to rush to my mother, kneel before her, and beg for her forgiveness for my selfishness and lack of filial piety. A few days later, back in the general ward, I was desperate to see her. I gathered my courage and dialled her number—a number I had not called in five years. My heart pounded as I waited. When she finally answered, I burst into tears. 'Mother!' I sobbed. After a long silence, I continued, 'Please forgive my unfilial behaviour. I know I was wrong.' She wept as well, comforting me and asking if I was well. I did not tell her about the surgery, but I promised to visit her within a few weeks.

Upon being discharged, I went straight to my old home. When I opened the door and saw my mother sitting in the living room, I broke down. She had become so thin and aged. She was equally distressed to see me so frail, with the surgical scar visible on my head. We embraced and wept. I soon discovered she was suffering from stomach cancer. My heart was heavy. She had worked so hard her entire life only to be struck by such an illness. For her sake, I moved back home to care for her every day. My fiancée did not understand, but I could no longer abandon my mother. I chose to let go of the fiancée and the 'empire' I was about to inherit; none of it compared to the importance of my mother.

My devoted care and companionship changed my character. I began to live in harmony with all the villagers. Eventually, I was recognised as the most filial child in the village, and my mother would beam with pride whenever she heard it. Beyond filial piety, I began to learn how to set aside my selfishness to serve the public. I was willing to do anything I could to help. Over several years, I transformed myself completely. With medical treatment and the 'medicine' of a happy heart, my mother’s cancer stabilised. She lived for another twenty years before passing away."

From Hell to the Western Pure Land

"After my mother passed, I continued to do good deeds, donating half of my monthly salary to Generosity, and living on the remainder. I did not dare to think about how long I would live; I cherished every day, knowing that tomorrow was never guaranteed. At thirty-five, while volunteering, I was introduced to the Buddha’s teachings, the Dharma. I was deeply moved, especially when I heard the chanting of the Buddha-name, which brought me to tears. From then on, I immersed myself in the Dharma, listening to lectures, chanting Namo Amituofo, and participating in Dharma assemblies. Those years were fulfilling and filled with Dharma joy.

At forty-nine, my time came. It was the final year of my life. Although I had not reached fifty, I was content. After my spirit leaving the body, I did not go to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. Instead, I ended up in the hells, serving as a jailer. It was then I realised my chanting had not been powerful enough. Especially before I died, I was severely subjected to interference by the beings associated with my brain tumour, and my chanting was intermittent. That is why I could not reach the Western Land. However, I was fortunate to serve as a jailer in the hells.

In the hells, I saw many unfilial young people suffering retribution. Seeing them was like looking at my younger self. I desperately wanted to help them return to the right path and show filial piety to their parents, so I constantly used the Buddha’s teachings to educate them. No matter how much they could hear, I did my best. When I heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks in the hells, I was overjoyed. I had never heard the sutras explained so clearly and simply. Many of the beings in the hells could hear it too, and many felt deep repenting. Seeing this moved me to tears; I prayed they would all be saved.

About three years ago, I was placed on the list for deliverance to the Western Land. I was overjoyed when I heard the news. Today, I have finally been guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. My heart is filled with gratitude.

I am grateful for the compassion of the Buddha.

I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Huang Pao"