The Tibetan Reunion

Amdo, North-eastern Tibet, 1937. A small group of senior lamas, their robes dusty from months of travel, stand in front of a modest farmer's home in Taktser village.

Signs led them here. In their dreams, they saw a turquoise lake, a house with a curved roof. Now, this house stands before them—its roof arcing, a lake sparkling nearby. A thrill ripples through them—could this truly be the place?

Five, led by a solemn regent, step inside the house. They're on a sacred mission: to find the 13th Dalai Lama, who died in 1933.

Inside, two-year-old Lhamo Dhondup toddles, his eyes bright with mischief. The lamas kneel, eyes fixed in quiet hope. They spread eight objects on a woven mat: two rosaries, one strung with yellow beads, one with red; two hand drums, one broad, one narrow; two walking sticks, two bells. Silence falls, heavy with possibility. Will he choose at all?

Lhamo stills, head tilting as if catching a silent call. The lamas watch, calm and intent. His small hand reaches, hovering, then grasps the yellow-beaded rosary, clutching it tight. A soft stir ripples through the group. He laughs, seizing the broad drum. Next, the carved stick, gripped with ease. Finally, he lifts the etched bell, its chime piercing the hush.

The regent's gaze softens, awe lighting his face. The objects chosen by Lhamo—yellow rosary, broad drum, carved stick, etched bell—belonged to the 13th Dalai Lama, sacred to him alone. This child, in a far-flung village, knows them with a clarity beyond chance.

The lamas bow, hearts full. The 14th Dalai Lama is in front of them. His spirit is alive, blazing in a boy's sure hands. They are reunited with their spiritual leader.