The Prison Guard's Gratitude

This is a record of an interview with Eideko, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. She now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon her life as a soldier in the early 20th century and her subsequent service as a prison guard in the hells. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on April 26, 2024.

Eideko speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am so deeply grateful to the Buddha. When I was serving as a prison guard in the hells, I was incredibly fortunate to hear Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks. I began to chant Namo Amituofo 24/7. Every time I recited this sacred Buddha-name, I felt a profound sense of peace and security. I sincerely hoped that one day, I would be able to follow the Buddha. Today, I am filled with gratitude for the Causal Conditions that allowed me to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.

When we sixty prison guards were led here by Practitioner Su, the magnificent scenery of the Western Pure Land was beyond anything words could describe. So many Bodhisattvas and beings of the Pure Land were glowing with a brilliant, translucent light. With every breath I took, I could smell a divine fragrance, and everywhere I looked, there was a shimmering, golden light that seemed to open my heart completely.

A Return to One's True Nature

Upon arriving in the Western Pure Land, my form underwent a change; I returned to the appearance of a man. That was the original form of my spirit, and everything about this transformation felt incredibly magnificent. I am so grateful for the compassion of the Buddha in establishing this Pure Land, and I am eternally thankful to Practitioner Su for her tireless, uninterrupted efforts to help all beings.

I am Eideko, though my full name is Kurata Takashi Eideko. Everyone is accustomed to calling me Eideko. In my previous life, I was not a woman; I was a very honest, simple civilian. My family lived in the Japanese countryside, farming the land. How could I have known that the stability of our lives would be shattered so abruptly? When I was nineteen years old, I had just returned from the fields when a group of military officers arrived at our home and took me away. No matter how my parents knelt and begged them not to take their only son, the officers heartlessly dragged me away by force.

I can still hear my mother's piercing cries echoing behind me. My heart ached with a pain I cannot describe, but I was powerless to change anything. I was taken to a military camp and subjected to all manner of armed training. The state instilled in us many concepts of patriotism, hoping we would serve the nation with our lives. The Empire of Japan was, at that time, in a period of expansion, hoping to extend its territory further. Therefore, they required a vast number of soldiers to realise the nation's ambitions.

The Burden of a Soldier

I grew up in the countryside and was never a man of ambition. My father and mother taught me to be honest, to help others, and that a peaceful life was enough. So, when I heard the grand visions of the military, I saw many of my brothers-in-arms truly stirred by the fervor. While everyone was shouting and cheering, my heart was filled with a deep, gnawing sense of unease.

It did not take long for my intuition to be proven correct. Our unit was sent abroad as the vanguard. We spent over a month at sea, arriving in an unfamiliar land. Our superiors ordered us to claim this territory for the Empire of Japan. As soon as we landed, we were met with fierce resistance. We were forced to use our weapons and drop bombs. The conflict erupted instantly. In the midst of the chaos, I was pushed to the very front lines. I watched as a bomb fell toward me, and after a sensation of being torn apart by pain, I entered a strange space.

In that space, one moment I saw my hometown, and the next, I was back on the battlefield, feeling the same intense fear and anxiety. My spirit wandered in this state for what felt like an eternity, and it was agonizing. I do not know how much time passed, but eventually, a light guided me out of that space. Following the light, I felt the sensation of water, and after a moment of sharp, piercing pain throughout my body, I was born again. I had regained a human body, and this time, I was Eideko.

The Lessons of a Mother's Kindness

Living with this new body, I often felt two conflicting emotions: a sense of relief and a sense of profound anxiety. I felt relief because I had a home again, a place where I could settle. But the anxiety came from seeing the world around me—everyone was struggling so hard just to survive, their faces etched with sorrow. My own mother, in particular, raised eight children. Often, she would carry one on her back, hold two by the hand, and keep a watchful eye on several others. Although my father was very responsible, life for our whole family was still incredibly difficult.

The village where I lived was very poor, and we relied on helping one another to get through each day. One day, an aunt from the neighboring village came to my mother, weeping. She told us that her husband, a gambler, had destroyed their home in a rage because he could not get money, and he had declared he would never return. My mother, wanting to give her peace of mind, gave half of our family's food supply for the month to this aunt. When the aunt left, she held my mother's hand in deep gratitude.

That day passed, and the aunt's husband truly never returned. She raised three children on her own, struggling immensely. Our family was also struggling, but at least my father was still working. Every time my mother held my hand to go shopping, she would say, 'Eideko, if we have even a little bit of ability, we must help others. We may have to suffer a little more ourselves, but if everyone can be well, that is enough.' After saying this, she would think about what the aunt might need and buy things for her as well as for our own home.

I am so grateful that my mother taught us through her own actions, ensuring that every child in our family grew up with a kind heart and good intentions.

A Wife's Plea for Peace

I married an army officer when I was twenty. My husband cherished me deeply and took me everywhere with him. We were very close. Before he was sent to the front lines, he did not want to bring me along because he feared for my safety, but I insisted. After the conflict broke out on the front lines, there were always wounded soldiers. I helped care for them, and in my heart, I always prayed that these wars would not happen. We are all human beings; I hoped that everyone could be well and live in peace. Because of this wish, my favorite animal became the white dove, the symbol of peace.

My husband was a high-ranking officer and often had to make critical decisions. I was always by his side, reminding him to remember the value of human life. I told him that nothing was more important than a human life, and that if he could resolve a situation without violence, he should do so. My husband listened to me, and he successfully prevented several wars that were on the verge of breaking out.

The atmosphere on the front lines was always tense, and our lives were constantly at risk. I hand-stitched many peace charms and distributed them to everyone, hoping they would all return home safely. I would also cook delicious meals or traditional hometown pastries to comfort them. Many soldiers looked upon me with great respect.

The Final Breath and the Path of Service

When I was forty-two, a sudden epidemic broke out in the military camp, and I was infected. The virus ravaged my body, my condition steadily declined, and finally, I could hold on no longer. I breathed my last. When my spirit left my body, I saw many people grieving for me, and I felt a pang of reluctance to leave them.

I drifted in a familiar space for several days. I saw the war erupting, and my heart was filled with anxiety; I hoped everyone would be safe. I saw many soldiers injured, and I wanted to help, but I no longer had a body, and I could do nothing. Under the influence of these thoughts, my spirit entered one of the peace charms I had sewn, and I stayed there for over twenty years.

One day, a force guided me to the Hall of King Yama. King Yama looked at me and nodded, saying, 'You did good deeds in the world, you promoted goodness, and you accumulated quite a lot of Blessings. Since you have a heart that wishes to help others, I will appoint you as a prison guard in the hells to serve all beings.' After hearing King Yama's judgment, I was deeply grateful, and I silently vowed to serve well.

In the hells, the wailing of those undergoing punishment often made my heart ache, but I also knew that this was the result of each spirit's own laws of karma and cause and effect. In the hells, karma is clear and distinct. I, too, had made mistakes in the past, and I listened to Practitioner Su's Dharma talks with a heart of repenting. Every word of the Dharma was like a strike to my heart, urging me to wake up and follow the Buddha.

I am so grateful for Practitioner Su's Dharma, for helping me know Namo Amituofo, and for teaching me about the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I hoped that one day I could seek to leave the hells. Finally, through the Causal Conditions of today, amidst the sound of chanting, I arrived at the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. My heart is filled with gratitude—gratitude to the Buddha, gratitude to Practitioner Su, and gratitude for all the Causal Conditions that brought me to this point. I will cherish this opportunity and study diligently under the Buddha's guidance.

With gratitude.

Namo Amituofo.

Eideko, kneeling in reverence."