Watching the children of Chagdud Gonpa grow up and evolve into practitioners is one of the most wonderful aspects of being in a long-standing extended family sangha. Seeing the first group of extraordinary sangha children— now extraordinary adults in their twenties—who happened to return to Rigdzin Ling last fall during Rinpoche’s visit, one is tempted to reminisce about what they were like at the age of five in the “Sunday school” sessions we used to have (intermittently, with rapid teacher burnout) in Oregon. Their insights were priceless and should have been written down.
However, having missed that opportunity, we can turn to a fresh group of voices at Khadro Ling. Sophia at four seems much older and wiser than her age. Diogo at five startles and amuses us with his perceptive comments, then explores the outer limits of our patience in the tradition of naughty children founded by Rinpoche himself and followed by Joseph Everest, Tulku Apé, and others. Sara at six is a princess and rather disdained the interview process.
How do you like living at Khadro Ling?
Diogo: I only like it when other children are here.
Sophia: I like it all the time because my mother lets me bring my toys. And I adore Rinpoche.
Sara: I like all the dogs and birds and children, and I like the quietness. In Belo Horizonte [a city where she stays sometime] it is too noisy.
Are you learning any dharma?
Diogo: I am learning to do some practice and prayers, and I learned about retreat because I was here. I know no one is allowed to kill anything.
Sophia: My mother taught me one thing—I can’t bring my cat Shanti here because cats kill, and my mother said it must not kill on this land.
Sara: I pray for animals and people and am learning prostrations with my mother.
Is there anything you want to change?
Diogo: I don’t like this shrineroom because the ceiling doesn’t look like a temple. (Note: The present shrineroom will become a dormitory when the lha khang is completed, having a ceiling that we hope Diogo approves of.) Also, we should hang t’hangkas in the kitchen.
Sara: No, nothing needs to change.
Watching the children of Chagdud Gonpa grow up and evolve into practitioners is one of the most wonderful aspects of being in a long-standing extended family sangha. Seeing the first group of extraordinary sangha children— now extraordinary adults in their twenties—who happened to return to Rigdzin Ling last fall during Rinpoche’s visit, one is tempted to reminisce about what they were like at the age of five in the “Sunday school” sessions we used to have (intermittently, with rapid teacher burnout) in Oregon. Their insights were priceless and should have been written down.
However, having missed that opportunity, we can turn to a fresh group of voices at Khadro Ling. Sophia at four seems much older and wiser than her age. Diogo at five startles and amuses us with his perceptive comments, then explores the outer limits of our patience in the tradition of naughty children founded by Rinpoche himself and followed by Joseph Everest, Tulku Apé, and others. Sara at six is a princess and rather disdained the interview process.
How do you like living at Khadro Ling?
Diogo: I only like it when other children are here.
Sophia: I like it all the time because my mother lets me bring my toys. And I adore Rinpoche.
Sara: I like all the dogs and birds and children, and I like the quietness. In Belo Horizonte [a city where she stays sometime] it is too noisy.
Are you learning any dharma?
Diogo: I am learning to do some practice and prayers, and I learned about retreat because I was here. I know no one is allowed to kill anything.
Sophia: My mother taught me one thing—I can’t bring my cat Shanti here because cats kill, and my mother said it must not kill on this land.
Sara: I pray for animals and people and am learning prostrations with my mother.
Is there anything you want to change?
Diogo: I don’t like this shrineroom because the ceiling doesn’t look like a temple. (Note: The present shrineroom will become a dormitory when the lha khang is completed, having a ceiling that we hope Diogo approves of.) Also, we should hang t’hangkas in the kitchen.
Sara: No, nothing needs to change.
Watching the children of Chagdud Gonpa grow up and evolve into practitioners is one of the most wonderful aspects of being in a long-standing extended family sangha. Seeing the first group of extraordinary sangha children— now extraordinary adults in their twenties—who happened to return to Rigdzin Ling last fall during Rinpoche’s visit, one is tempted to reminisce about what they were like at the age of five in the “Sunday school” sessions we used to have (intermittently, with rapid teacher burnout) in Oregon. Their insights were priceless and should have been written down.
However, having missed that opportunity, we can turn to a fresh group of voices at Khadro Ling. Sophia at four seems much older and wiser than her age. Diogo at five startles and amuses us with his perceptive comments, then explores the outer limits of our patience in the tradition of naughty children founded by Rinpoche himself and followed by Joseph Everest, Tulku Apé, and others. Sara at six is a princess and rather disdained the interview process.
How do you like living at Khadro Ling?
Diogo: I only like it when other children are here.
Sophia: I like it all the time because my mother lets me bring my toys. And I adore Rinpoche.
Sara: I like all the dogs and birds and children, and I like the quietness. In Belo Horizonte [a city where she stays sometime] it is too noisy.
Are you learning any dharma?
Diogo: I am learning to do some practice and prayers, and I learned about retreat because I was here. I know no one is allowed to kill anything.
Sophia: My mother taught me one thing—I can’t bring my cat Shanti here because cats kill, and my mother said it must not kill on this land.
Sara: I pray for animals and people and am learning prostrations with my mother.
Is there anything you want to change?
Diogo: I don’t like this shrineroom because the ceiling doesn’t look like a temple. (Note: The present shrineroom will become a dormitory when the lha khang is completed, having a ceiling that we hope Diogo approves of.) Also, we should hang t’hangkas in the kitchen.
Sara: No, nothing needs to change.
Watching the children of Chagdud Gonpa grow up and evolve into practitioners is one of the most wonderful aspects of being in a long-standing extended family sangha. Seeing the first group of extraordinary sangha children— now extraordinary adults in their twenties—who happened to return to Rigdzin Ling last fall during Rinpoche’s visit, one is tempted to reminisce about what they were like at the age of five in the “Sunday school” sessions we used to have (intermittently, with rapid teacher burnout) in Oregon. Their insights were priceless and should have been written down.
However, having missed that opportunity, we can turn to a fresh group of voices at Khadro Ling. Sophia at four seems much older and wiser than her age. Diogo at five startles and amuses us with his perceptive comments, then explores the outer limits of our patience in the tradition of naughty children founded by Rinpoche himself and followed by Joseph Everest, Tulku Apé, and others. Sara at six is a princess and rather disdained the interview process.
How do you like living at Khadro Ling?
Diogo: I only like it when other children are here.
Sophia: I like it all the time because my mother lets me bring my toys. And I adore Rinpoche.
Sara: I like all the dogs and birds and children, and I like the quietness. In Belo Horizonte [a city where she stays sometime] it is too noisy.
Are you learning any dharma?
Diogo: I am learning to do some practice and prayers, and I learned about retreat because I was here. I know no one is allowed to kill anything.
Sophia: My mother taught me one thing—I can’t bring my cat Shanti here because cats kill, and my mother said it must not kill on this land.
Sara: I pray for animals and people and am learning prostrations with my mother.
Is there anything you want to change?
Diogo: I don’t like this shrineroom because the ceiling doesn’t look like a temple. (Note: The present shrineroom will become a dormitory when the lha khang is completed, having a ceiling that we hope Diogo approves of.) Also, we should hang t’hangkas in the kitchen.
Sara: No, nothing needs to change.
Watching the children of Chagdud Gonpa grow up and evolve into practitioners is one of the most wonderful aspects of being in a long-standing extended family sangha. Seeing the first group of extraordinary sangha children— now extraordinary adults in their twenties—who happened to return to Rigdzin Ling last fall during Rinpoche’s visit, one is tempted to reminisce about what they were like at the age of five in the “Sunday school” sessions we used to have (intermittently, with rapid teacher burnout) in Oregon. Their insights were priceless and should have been written down.
However, having missed that opportunity, we can turn to a fresh group of voices at Khadro Ling. Sophia at four seems much older and wiser than her age. Diogo at five startles and amuses us with his perceptive comments, then explores the outer limits of our patience in the tradition of naughty children founded by Rinpoche himself and followed by Joseph Everest, Tulku Apé, and others. Sara at six is a princess and rather disdained the interview process.
How do you like living at Khadro Ling?
Diogo: I only like it when other children are here.
Sophia: I like it all the time because my mother lets me bring my toys. And I adore Rinpoche.
Sara: I like all the dogs and birds and children, and I like the quietness. In Belo Horizonte [a city where she stays sometime] it is too noisy.
Are you learning any dharma?
Diogo: I am learning to do some practice and prayers, and I learned about retreat because I was here. I know no one is allowed to kill anything.
Sophia: My mother taught me one thing—I can’t bring my cat Shanti here because cats kill, and my mother said it must not kill on this land.
Sara: I pray for animals and people and am learning prostrations with my mother.
Is there anything you want to change?
Diogo: I don’t like this shrineroom because the ceiling doesn’t look like a temple. (Note: The present shrineroom will become a dormitory when the lha khang is completed, having a ceiling that we hope Diogo approves of.) Also, we should hang t’hangkas in the kitchen.
Sara: No, nothing needs to change.
