True Account
Grandma Took Me on a Day Trip to the Land of Bliss — Seeing Amitabha Buddha, I Was Moved to Tears
Namo Amitabha Buddha. I am Fo Wang, from Johor Bahru, Malaysia. 21 March 2018 was an afternoon so hot that the very air seemed to burn. Outside the window the cicadas never stopped, and the sun blazed high; yet from that day on, the sunshine held no joy for me—because that afternoon, my grandmother, only sixty-three, left us forever. I was eight years old.
After my grandmother passed away, my mother at once contacted some lotus friends to ask what we should do. They said gently, "At a time like this, there is only one thing to do: recite the Buddha's name."
Within fifteen minutes, they had hurried to our home. There was no commotion in the house, no wailing—only the Buddha's name, gentle and solemn, recitation after recitation, slowly echoing through the air:
"Namo Amitabha Buddha…"
"Namo Amitabha Buddha…"
"Namo Amitabha Buddha…"
Those low, compassionate voices were like a lamp in the dark, slowly lighting up the whole house. And that was the first time that I, as a small child, came to know the Name "Namo Amitabha Buddha."
Time passed, little by little—one hour, two hours, three hours… and the recitation never stopped. It was then that I noticed my grandmother's face, which had been stiff, slowly taking on a faint, peaceful smile; her eyebrows curved gently upward, like crescent moons in the night sky, resting quietly on her face.
My mother later told me that when she was bathing my grandmother's body, it was remarkably soft, without the slightest stiffness. She said softly, "Grandma must have gone to the Land of Ultimate Bliss."
But at that age, I had no idea what the "Land of Ultimate Bliss" really was. So, in my innocence, I took it to mean "Happy Land"—a place where one is happy forever and never suffers.
Later, the hearse arrived, and we followed it to the funeral parlour, where we held my grandmother's funeral. When the ceremonies were over, life seemed to settle back into calm; a few months later, everyone had gradually returned to their normal routines.
But the questions in my heart never stopped:
"Is 'Happy Land' fun?"
"What does it look like?"
"Is Grandma happy there?"
All kinds of imaginings about the Land of Ultimate Bliss surged up in my heart, wave after wave. I quietly made up my mind: one day, I would go and see this place called "Happy Land" with my own eyes.
From then on, every night before bed, I silently asked my grandmother to take me to see the Land of Ultimate Bliss. I also began reciting the Buddha's name in earnest, recitation after recitation: "Namo Amitabha Buddha…" And amid those days of praying and reciting, that day really came.
It was an unusually quiet night. After I fell asleep, I had a dream unlike any I had ever had: I was on board an impossibly luxurious aeroplane, soft light falling all around me, as if I were floating among the clouds.
"Ring—" Suddenly a telephone rang beside me. I ran towards the sound, picked up the receiver, and without thinking asked, "Who is this?"
From the other end came a voice I knew so well: "It's me."
In that instant I froze—it was Grandma!
That familiar voice flooded into my heart like a tide; I was startled and overjoyed, so moved I could hardly speak. After we had greeted each other, I asked her carefully, "Grandma, can you take me to the Land of Ultimate Bliss?"
She laughed softly and said, "Of course. I'll take you right now."
"Whoosh—" A flash of white light. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in a world I had never seen before. It was beautiful beyond anything in this human world.
My grandmother, who in life had spent years in a wheelchair, now stood steady upon a lotus. Her body was healthy and upright; the wrinkles on her face were gone, and in their place was a compassionate smile I had never seen before—warm and serene, as if every worry in the world had melted away. She wore solemn, splendid robes, and her whole being gave off a gentle light.
Then Grandma took my hand and led me slowly deeper into the Land of Ultimate Bliss.
The further in we went, the more I felt I had entered another universe. There was no night there, and no sun, yet the whole world shone with a soft golden light. It did not hurt the eyes at all; it was as warm as being held gently by one's mother, and it made the heart feel utterly at ease.
Underfoot was not earth but ground of clear, sparkling lapis lazuli. With every step, faint ripples of light spread across the ground, like a lake stirred by a breeze. All around bloomed countless enormous lotuses—gold, pink, white—each giving off a soft glow; their petals seemed carved from jewels, clear and luminous, so beautiful I could not look away.
The air was filled with a fragrance I had never smelled before, unlike perfume, unlike flowers; one gentle breath of it and the heart was instantly at peace. Soft recitation of the Buddha's name sounded continuously in my ears, as if the whole world were reciting. More wonderful still, even the trees there recited: when the wind blew gently and the leaves brushed against one another, they gave out the sound "Namo Amitabha Buddha… Namo Amitabha Buddha…"—clear and solemn, drifting through the air like music.
Countless lotuses drifted slowly down from the sky; when they touched the ground they did not wither, but turned into specks of golden light and flew back up into the sky. In the distance, many people stood on lotuses and flew freely through the air, each with a serene smile on their face, without sorrow, without care.
Just as I was lost in this beauty, an unbelievably brilliant light appeared ahead of me. It was brighter than words can describe—brighter, it seemed, than ten million suns—yet it was not frightening in the least; rather, it drew me to come closer. Slowly I walked towards it, and the closer I came, the faster my heart beat. Until at last I saw them—the Three Sages of the Pure Land.
In that instant I froze. Standing in the very centre was Amitabha Buddha.
Amitabha Buddha's body was so immense it seemed to join heaven and earth; simply by standing there, he seemed to still the whole universe. From his entire being poured boundless golden light, spreading out in every direction, gently covering the whole Land of Ultimate Bliss like waves of the sea. His robe shone with gold—not an ordinary gold, but a solemn colour never seen in the human world, with countless tiny points of light seeming to flow across it.
What I can never forget is Amitabha Buddha's face. It was a face beyond description: not an ordinary smile, but an expression of compassion carried to its utmost. The way the Buddha looked upon sentient beings seemed to hold infinite acceptance—whatever wrongs you had done, however much you had suffered, one glance from him and every grievance in your heart would melt away in an instant. His eyes were as gentle as moonlight from the deepest reaches of the universe, yet so solemn that one dared not gaze at them carelessly. Just standing there, I was already moved almost to tears.
Nor was Amitabha Buddha still and motionless like the Buddha images of this world: the light upon his body flowed without ceasing, and the halo behind him turned slowly, ring upon ring; with every turn, countless golden lotuses drifted down from the sky. Standing before him, I was so small that I did not reach even half the height of his toe; yet, strangely, I was not afraid at all. For what Amitabha Buddha gave one was not a sense of being overpowered, but a peace of mind I had never known—as if, standing at his side, every suffering in the world would simply vanish.
Beside him, Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva likewise radiated a soft white light, holding a vase of pure water, with a compassion as tender as a mother's; and Mahāsthāmaprāpta Bodhisattva was solemn beyond measure, the light upon him so bright it seemed able to break through all darkness.
In that moment I finally understood why everyone longs for the Land of Ultimate Bliss—because it is simply too beautiful: too beautiful to be a dream, too beautiful to be of this world, so beautiful that one look and you can never forget it.
Seeing how content and overwhelmed I was, Grandma laughed softly and said, "All right, your one-day tour of the Land of Ultimate Bliss is over. Time to go back to the real world. Bye bye."
As soon as she finished speaking, I woke from the dream. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, and golden morning light filled the whole room. To this day, I have never forgotten that dream.
That journey left me in deep awe of Amitabha Buddha's inconceivable merit, and for the first time I truly felt that the Land of Ultimate Bliss really can be this wonderful—no worries, no pressure, no suffering, only endless peace and light.
Since then, I have recited the Buddha's name with even firmer resolve. For I have always believed that one day I will see my grandmother again; and one day, I will once more set foot in that place too beautiful to be of this world—the Land of Ultimate Bliss.
Namo Amitabha Buddha.
With palms joined, Fo Wang
Submitted to Pure Land Buddhism, Johor Bahru Centre, Malaysia
A Note from Master Jingben
This article has its origin in a Dharma assembly held at our center this year. During the assembly I shared an account of a child who had visited the Land of Ultimate Bliss in a dream; afterwards, Fo Wang came up to tell me that he too had had such an experience as a child. Delighted to hear it, I encouraged him to write it down and share it with everyone.
Some in the world suppose that the Land of Ultimate Bliss is merely a religious myth, a parable to encourage people to do good, and that no such place truly exists. Yet in the Amitabha Sutra the Buddha speaks to us again and again in terms of what is: "West of here, beyond a hundred thousand million Buddha-lands, there 'is' a world called Ultimate Bliss. In that land there 'is' a Buddha called Amitabha, who is teaching the Dharma right now." He then goes on to describe in detail the many adornments of that land—its pools of seven jewels, its jewelled lotuses, its rows of jewelled trees, the heavenly flowers raining down. None of this is metaphor; it is a Pure Land that truly exists. The eight-year-old in this account had likely never read these passages, yet what he saw in his dream matches them point for point. What the Buddha proclaimed two and a half thousand years ago, and what a child saw in a dream today, are one and the same. Amitabha Buddha's Land of Ultimate Bliss truly exists.
There is one more thing in this account worth noting: the one who took the child on his day trip to the Land of Ultimate Bliss was his grandmother, who had passed away. People in the world think that when a loved one passes, it is farewell forever. Not so—one who recites the Buddha's name and is reborn in the Pure Land has simply arrived there first, and now dwells with Amitabha Buddha. Since it is only "arriving first," there is no real separation, only a parting for a time; if the family left behind also recite the Buddha's name, they will surely meet again in the Land of Ultimate Bliss, and the whole family will be reunited forever. So when one person is reborn there, that family has from then on "someone who arrived first" in the Land of Ultimate Bliss—one more loved one, now a bodhisattva, waiting in the Pure Land and watching over us always.
The child in this account tells us that Amitabha Buddha's light was brighter than ten million suns, yet it did not hurt the eyes—it only felt warm; that the Buddha's body was so vast it joined heaven and earth, yet he felt no fear—only peace. Why? Because that light is the light of compassion, and that body is the body of a compassionate father. Amitabha Buddha's majesty is not meant to make us stand in awe at a distance, but to let us draw near in perfect safety. May readers understand from this: to recite the Buddha's name is to return to our compassionate father's side; to aspire to the Land of Ultimate Bliss is to go home. Recite "Namo Amitabha Buddha," recitation after recitation, and the Buddha will surely come to receive you. Namo Amitabha Buddha.
This article was finalized in October 2026.
微信分享
扫描二维码，或复制链接分享
