Hello, my name is Nina. I am a 19-year-old young woman who is eager to share the remarkable story of divine intervention and salvation experienced by my people, the Rina clan, and myself.
As a child raised in a Buddhist household, I was taught that Jesus was akin to a myth—a figure not considered to have a basis in reality, much like legendary or mythical characters. My parents dedicated their spiritual practices to Buddha, venerating him as their deity and adhering to his teachings in pursuit of spiritual fulfillment and the path to heaven. We mostly believed in zodiac signs and Buddha symbols.Despite their firm beliefs, I often felt an inner void that suggested there was an essential aspect missing from my understanding of life and spirituality.
Father: Dear, Jesus is not real. He's a myth. The only god we serve is Buddha. he is the only path to heaven
Mother gently reassured, "He's correct, dear. It's just Buddha. Now, let's make our way to the temple and present our offerings as a gesture of reverence and devotion."
When I was younger, I wholeheartedly trusted their words, embracing their proclamations as absolute truth. I held the belief that Buddha was the sole deity. Together, we would embark on our journey to the temple, where we would present our offerings to the magnificent Buddha statue, crafted entirely from gleaming, pure gold.
As we were returning from our journey, I found myself in urgent need of a restroom. Feeling quite desperate, I turned to my parents and requested their permission to stop so I could relieve myself.
On my way to the nearby restroom, I could feel as though someone was following me, an unsettling sensation that prickled at my senses. Despite turning around to check, my eyes met nothing but empty space—there was no shadow, no presence behind me to confirm my suspicions. I've experienced such paranoia frequently due to the many challenges I've faced even at a young age. This pervasive feeling of unease, as if someone was always lurking just out of sight, was particularly disconcerting. It struck me as quite odd to sense someone trailing me with such clarity but to find no trace of them when I looked back. I attempted to dismiss this unsettling feeling as merely my imagination playing tricks on me, reassuring myself that it was likely nothing of importance. Yet, the lingering sensation persisted within me, clinging to my thoughts as I continued to make my way to the restroom.
At long last, after what felt like an eternity battling the relentless pressure that had been building in my bladder, I finally released myself from its tight, unyielding grip, experiencing a profound sense of relief. After attending to this immediate call of nature, I make my way over to the washbasin with the intention of cleansing both my hands and my face, hoping to refresh myself completely. As I lift my face upwards, expecting to see a reflection of my own weary self, I am instead greeted by the sight of an astonishingly handsome man looking back at me through the mirror, as if standing right there in the room with me. His presence exudes an undeniable aura of power and confidence that seems to fill the very space around him, drawing me in. Despite the intensity of his appearance, his face is illuminated by a warm and kind smile—one so genuine that it seems designed to put anyone encountering it immediately at ease. In his gentle yet authoritative tone, he addresses me directly, saying, "My child, the time has come," leaving me both intrigued and overcome with curiosity as to what important event or revelation this moment could be heralding.