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Years ago I traveled to Shijiazhuang, China and found—seemingly by accident—the Longxing Temple, settled behind mountains, unseeable to the naked eye. And yet I was able to give directions to my hosts as their car passed the highway exit! I myself was stunned to suddenly be looking at the Guanyin statue on the north side of Móní-diàn, captivated by its beauty, and I was sure the Guanyin who I have prayed to for years, saw me. In the central temple grounds, the courtyard was empty except for tourists. The vision shifted and I clearly saw a group of young men robed in red, listening to a teacher, clothed in yellow and red. I understood that I was that teacher speaking to the smiling listeners, who were looking up into my eyes—and then the scene faded.

I lay in bed that night, tormented by the oppressive heat that permeated the room through an open window, and an awe-inspiring spectacle unfolded before me. A colossal, resplendent Buddha manifested, enveloped in a radiant aura of gold. Silent yet profound, he exuded an overwhelming sense of love and acceptance—emotions that surpassed the boundaries of my comprehension at that time. The Buddha stood in such proximity that I could almost reach out and embrace his divine presence, yet an inexplicable barrier prevented me from doing so. In his gaze, I found solace and tranquility. He bestowed upon me a benediction, his words permeating my being with an undeniable sense of peace.