Three Little Spirits Quest  

By Wakingspirit.com ©

Bill's Discovery

Bill Hamilton was an Archaeologist with various museums over his career. He had a natural talent for detecting fraud, investigating and tracking down thieves then retuning stolen priceless items to museums around the world. He was the Sherlock Holmes of the museum world. With this talent Bill was easily convinced to become a full-time Archaeologist Detective. It was his life...he was 45 years-old and never married...his entire purpose for living was defending museums from the packs of bloodthirsty thieves that preyed on them world-wide.

It was early December when Bill got entangled in a mysterious web of intrigue over a statue, his employer, the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County had just purchased.

The two thousand year-old statue of Kwan Yin was a centrepiece in the Ancient Asian display at the Museum. It was very rare. It was made by a break-away group of Zen Buddhist monks who believed that she embodied the essence of the most positive side of Buddhism – it was the first homage paid to an entity who turned down the opportunity to become a Goddess – rather she choose to remain among the people and embrace humanity. It was believed that this was the first statue made as a tribute to Kwan Yin. It was made from bronze and stood about 3 feet high. Kwan Yin was standing on a bed of lotus flowers. She stood up straight and high wearing a gown and cape that flowed in the wind. Her garments were embossed with a gold paint in a fine elaborate design of minute Chinese characters. She held a small flask in her left hand which contained the elixir of life and her right hand had a gesture passing on a blessing of prosperity and good health. Kwan Yin’s face was soft and radiant – her eyes looked downward as if to comfort children at her feet.  The workmanship was remarkable.

The museum paid four million dollars for the statue. 

It was a fluke how Bill found out that it was a fake. A young archaeologist intern was doing a routine cleaning of the statue. Bill was passing by as the student dislodged the flask from the statue’s hand. It fell to the floor with a small thud. The student was almost in shock.

‘Not to worry,’ said Bill, ‘the flask is a free standing object made to be place in the caress of her hand – in fact I understand that when they shipped it here the flask was wrapped up separately.’

The student was relieved that he had not broken it and grateful that Bill was so calm and understanding. Bill took the flask back to his lab to make sure it was not scraped or damaged by the fall. The solid bronze flask was fine. Bill decided to carbon date the flask, only because he wanted to try out a new portable testing kit that could provide results in a half an hour.  Alarmingly, the test showed the statue was no more than 20 years old. It was a first class replica.

Bill was fired up like a hound given the scent of an escaped prisoner to hunt down. He didn’t tell his superiors that the Kwan Yin was a fake. He needed more facts before he could go to them – he liked to come with solutions not problems. In some way he felt responsible – even though he was not involved in its procurement or shipping. Dr. Deborah Dawson was in charge of securing the statue and shipping it.  Dr. Dawson was a highly acclaimed archaeologist and one of the top experts in Ancient Asian art. She had been with the museum for 35 years. When the Chinese government put the statue on the market Deborah was commissioned by the museum to purchase it – and given a big purse to do so.

The only thing was - Deborah died on November 30th, a day after her 73rd birthday and just two weeks after the statue was brought and set up at the museum. Her heart was giving out on her – she found out in early September - the doctors gave her two months to live. At the time she didn’t tell her boss. Over the time she had left to live she was commissioned to secure Kwan Yin. Bill wondered why she would take on such an assignment as her last task on Earth.

Bill dug deeper into the mystery of the fake Kwan Yin. And it only became more bizarre and perplexing. It appears that Deborah had set up the entire caper. Her finger prints were all over the paper trail that saw the real statue switched for the fake one. While she was in China to secure the purchase of the valuable Kwan Yin statue she also bought 10 replica statues for the wholesale supplier of museum gift stores throughout North America – which the LA Museum owned and operated.

One statue was in their museum gift shop. Bill tested it - it was a replica. The paper trail led to nine client museums that had placed an order with Deborah. Back at the LA warehouse Deborah must have switched the real statue with one of those replicas, performed the authentication of the replica and erected in their museum’s display – no one would ever question her and no one was the wiser. The nine replicas were sent out to various museums across United States and Canada – Bill thought she must have had an accomplice...who did she make arrangements with to pick up the four million dollar statue...who was intended to get rich off this crime? 

Bill spent a frantic week tracking down the nine statues. He made up a story that the statues had a coating to protect it from rust, but the coating was very toxic. He had contacted eight of the museums – the statues were still in the gift shop. Bill went to each location and conducted a fake test for toxics and a real carbon dating test to determine the age of the statue. In each case it was a replica – Bill would then go through the motions of washing the statue with a solution of dish soap and water and tell the gift shop the statue was safe to sell.

The Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto was the only museum left to investigate – by process of elimination it must have the real statue.

The four million dollar mystery was to uncover Deborah’s motive or plan for pulling off this heist - and of course tracking down the accomplice. Was it for the money…but for what or who…she was dying, she was single and had no kids or dependents…in fact she was a very solitary woman. Her life seemed to revolve around her museum career and working for charities. Bill was confounded. He once tracked down some thieves that pulled off a heist to one of his best friends, but the motive was easy to understand - greed. Bill had no problems with his convictions - his friend was arrested and sent to jail for ten years. Now he needed to track down the source of Deborah’s greed…is always about greed, he thought.

    **********************************************************

Truthfully, Bill concluded that Deborah was ingenuous as the master mind behind the heist. The mystery is unravelling, he thought. Now all he had to do was call the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto to confirm his findings.

‘Hello, the Royal Ontario Museum gift shop…how can I help you,’ said a women on the phone. She sounded very young.

‘Hello, this is Dr. Bill Hamilton from the Los Angeles Museum,’ replied Bill, ‘Could I speak to Ms. Wilson, your manager, please.’

‘One moment,’ replied the young lady.

‘Hello, this is Irene, how can I help you,’ asked Irene Wilson.

‘Irene, I'm Dr. Bill Hamilton,’ replied Bill, ‘I work with the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County. I understand that your museum buys from our wholesale outlet in LA to stock your gift shop. Our records show you purchased a replica statue of Kwan Yin – it arrived in your store on Friday, November 29th.  Is it still in the gift shop?’

‘Oddly enough,’ said Irene, ‘we set it up on Sunday and sold it that day.’

‘Can you provide me with the info on who bought it,’ asked Bill.

‘Sure, but can I ask why,’ queried Irene.

‘Of course,’ said Bill, ‘we are recalling the statues…as you know they were made in Tibet…we just found out that the bronze was treated with an anti-oxidation coating that is very toxic – it’s making people violently ill when the statue is placed in a small room. In a large store like your shop the toxics would disperse and be harmless.’

‘Just a minute…alright…I just found the invoice,’ said Irene, ‘you’re not going to believe this…the customer paid cash.’

‘You must have her name on the invoice,’ pressed Bill.

‘No…we don’t require it – we just run it through the cash register and that’s that,’ replied Irene.

‘Well, it is very important we find this person,’ said Bill, ‘I’m going to come to Toronto…can I talk to the person who sold it and run through the security footage when I get there?’

‘We’ll do everything in our power to help,’ replied Irene.

Bill’s white lie about the statue was working beautifully. Museums and Art Galleries are very sensitive about the breaches in security. Mishaps involving stolen objects can seriously hurt their reputation and lead to top staff being fired – if it’s avoidable they conduct secret investigations and don’t want to publicize it. As far as everyone was concerned working at the LA museum, the Kwan Yin on display was the real thing – only Bill knew the truth.

   ***********************************************************

Bill arrived at the Royal Ontario Museum on Monday, December 16th. 

Irene had all the staff on hand before the store opened. Bill explained the situation. A young lady stepped forward.

‘It was the first day we had the statue out for sale…I remember selling it,’ said Mary. ‘It was a woman in her late thirties that bought it – she was with her daughter – say about nine years old.’

‘It was strange,’ Mary continued, ‘she said that she had some financial troubles from the past and was rebuilding her credit rating – so she asked me to hold the statue for an hour as she had to go the bank and get cash to pay for it.’

‘Sure enough she came back with the cash and bought the statue…that’s about all there is to it,’ concluded Mary. ‘Oh yes, she was visiting the museum from Kingston,’ Mary added.

‘Great stuff,’ said Bill,

‘The statue is very heavy how did she take it out of the store?’ Bill asked the staff.

‘She got her car, pulled out front on Bloor Street and I carried it out to her trunk,’ replied John, 'I remember because I was afraid I'd drop it.'

Bill reviewed video footage from inside and outside the store. Just as the store clerk reported, it was a woman in her thirties with her daughter…Bill put the daughter at ten years-old. He had a clear view of the licence plate. This was going well he thought…through his security contacts he had the plates ran – the car belong to a Sylvie Boit at 224 York Street Kingston, Ontario.

    ***********************************************************

Four weeks prior to Bill’s discovery

'Our prime purpose in this life is to help... ... it takes energy, generosity, and discipline to be unfailingly light-hearted, yet everyone takes the happy person for granted. ... It is a trait we hate in other people but justify in ourselves,’ said the Dalai Lama.

‘I’ve become jaded over the past number of years and now that the doctors give me two months to live,' said Dr. Deborah Dawson, ‘Strangely, I feel liberated and all I want to do is one last great gesture of selflessness…some generous act of compassion.’

‘Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them,’ replied the Dalai Lama.

‘There’s a lot of hurt being slung around out there in this world…I think too many people are crippled as they journey through life,’ responded Deborah, ‘too many ill perceived desires and passions, wayward obsessions and egotism, unrelenting vulgarity and arrogance and destructive fickleness and sloth. All the residue and dregs of hanging out aimlessly and without purpose is not living but passing time – it turns people into lesser creatures.’

‘Deborah, I see that you feel the world deeply and the injustices at work have wounded you – that happy person is just below the surface of your pain,’ replied the Dalai Lama, ‘we’ve talked about the six main minds… the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body and mental consciousness and now you bring to light the afflictions we call peripheral mental factors.’

‘However, when any of the afflicting mental factors becomes manifest,’ the Dalai Lama said softly, ‘a main mind comes under its influence, goes wherever the affliction leads it, and “accumulates” a bad action.’

‘I’ve listened to your teaching,’ said Deborah, ‘I know that a strong ongoing attachment to oneself will stir up wonton desire and hatred and lead to anger and a lashing out at the world when something undesirable occurs.’

‘I would like to have done something before I die to set the world one step closer to being on the right path – a path of compassion and grace,’ cried out Deborah.

‘Before you die,’ replied the Dalai Lama, ‘let go of the “I” in you…I know you well enough… I believe that your main mind will act freely from the influence of afflictions – it will lead to one final act of compassion that will set in motion endless acts of goodness – it will be a gentle push to Humanity moving us in the right path.’

‘I leave Dharamshala in three days…back to LA,’ said Deborah, ‘I want to thank you for guiding me through life for the last 20 years…I will miss you.’

Any time there was a prolonged trip to Asia, Deborah always stay in Dharamshala, India which was where the Dalia Lama set up the Tibetan Government in Exile in Northern India.

‘Dear Deborah,’ said the Dalai Lama, ‘We all need others in our lives – it’s essential that we cast out a web that connects us through millions of invisible strands of hope and love where the countless vibrations on each string triggers a sympathetic chorus of actions that go back and forth as waves of mutual empathy between you and all the people you touch in life…you’ve done much great work for the people of the world…you are a hero in my eyes.’

Deborah blushed, gently bowed her head and excused herself.

She went down to the old warehouse where the monks stockpiled supplies.

The monks were packing up ten bronze statues that Deborah had purchased from the Tibet Monastery’s Master Sculptors. The monks made only ten every decade under the supervision of the 95 year-old Master Sculptor. The statutes were being sent to the museum wholesale store in LA and from there out to eight different museums in Unites States and one in Canada – these museums had pre-order the statutes through Deborah. Deborah’s museum would sell one in its gift shop. These statues were exact replicas of the two thousand year-old statue she purchased in Beijing – it was a statue of Kwan Yin a Zen Buddhist Goddess of Compassion.

At the auction in Beijing Deborah was entrenched in a bidding war, but she was given the green light from the LA Museum to go as high as four million dollars – and luckily it was just enough to win the bid.  The Chinese government had stripped many treasures from Tibet and other outlying provinces to bring them to Beijing. It was felt that the Chinese government was selling the Kwan Yin statue to spite the rebellious and outcast Tibetans.

  ************************************************************

Two weeks prior to Bill’s discovery

Back in LA Deborah unpacked the two thousand year-old Kwan Yin. As an archaeologist Deborah well knew the story about the origin of this statue and the meaning that Kwan Yin had to the Zen Buddhist followers all over Asia. On top of all this, Deborah felt a strong spiritual connection to Kwan Yin. They were both Sagittarians and passionate women. Deborah thought that Kwan Yin was the embodiment of the wisdom of the true feminine spirit. The story goes like this…

Kwan Yin was the daughter of a king under whose rule the people led a peaceful existence governed by Confucian ethics. He had two other daughters; the eldest two having already married the grooms of their father's choice. The youngest, Kwan Yin, however, was unlike any other normal child. First, when she was born, her body glowed with an unearthly light, so much so that the palace seemed on fire and cleansed by the intensity of the flame. She was thus named Miao Shan (Wonderful Goodness).

Second, as she grew up, she wore only dirty clothes and never did display any urge to adorn herself. Further, she would subsist on only a single meal every day. In her conversations she would talk about the impermanence of material things and how human beings suffer because of their attachment to such objects. Naturally worried about their daughter's detached inclinations, her parents proposed that she too marry a husband of their choice. To this she replied:

‘I would never, for the sake of one lifetime of enjoyment, plunge into aeons of misery. I have pondered on this matter and deeply detest this earthly marriage.’ Nevertheless, when her parents insisted, she agreed to comply with their wishes if only her future mate would save her from the following three misfortunes:

1). When people are young, their face is as fair as the jade-like moon, but when they grow old, the hair turns white and faces become wrinkled; whether walking, resting, sitting, or lying down, they are in every way worse off than when they were young.

2). Similarly, when our limbs are strong and vigorous one may walk as if flying through air, but when we suddenly becomes sick, we are confined to the bed.

3). A person may have a large group of relatives and be surrounded by his flesh and blood, but when death comes, even such close kin as father and son cannot take the person's place.

‘If indeed my future husband can ensure my deliverance against these misfortunes, I will gladly marry him,’ she concluded, ‘otherwise, I vow to remain a spinster all my life. People all over the world are mired in these kinds of suffering. If one desires to be free of them, the only option is to shed the material diversions of this world and walk the path towards enlightenment.’

Her father, the King, was outraged by her defiance. He struck her across the face and vanquished her from his land. Kwan Yin left the kingdom. Many years later upon hearing that her father was deathly ill she came back to be with him. At his bedside she offered her good health in exchange for her father’s life – which was granted by the Gods. Her father recovered and Kwan Yin died.

Buddha had once in a previous birth as a pigeon saw a man lose his way during a snowstorm, driven to the point of starvation. The pigeon gathered twigs and leaves, made a fire and threw himself wholeheartedly into it, to become food for the distressed soul. Buddha was stirred by Kwan Yin following of this lofty ideal, a self-sacrifice par excellence, motivated by pure selflessness and indiscriminate compassion...Buddha called this karuna - a means to a happy present life and heavenly rebirth.

At the gates of Heaven Kwan Yin was deemed to have obtained enlightenment and was offered the status of a Goddess. In her infinite compassion she could hear the cries of all the distressed and suffering children and people back on Earth. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned down the great status being offered to her. Instead she came back to Earth bringing solace to the suffering and righting injustices.

Deborah felt that Kwan Yin was a symbol of Buddhist or any religion’s tenant of goodness as expressed through the softer wisdom of a woman. She is the re-emergence of the Goddess as the true voice of compassion and peace crying out for Humanity to live in harmony.

Deborah looked closely at the statue. Can anything be more subtly female, she thought, than her graceful poise - modest and inward looking, yet potent enough to generate and compassionately nourish the whole outside world?

Deborah had closely studied the evolution of religion in cultures around the world. Over the last couple of centuries world religions emerged that enslaved women and buried the female deities – the Goddesses were dying. She was determined that the Divine Feminine cannot be suppressed forever…only time will tell how the re-emergence of the Goddesses will transpire in our cultures and transform Humanity.

Kwan Yin sat on the table as Deborah unpacked a replica statue that would be sold in the gift store. She was astounded at the exactness of the replica – no one would be able to tell the difference between the two statues.

‘I don’t belong here,’ a soft voice spoke.

Deborah was alarmed, jumped in the air and turned around. No one was in the room.

‘You know I don’t belong here,’ the voice spoke again.

‘Who’s here,’ yelled out Deborah.

‘Kwan Yin,’ replied the voice.

Deborah looked over at the statue. Its body glowed with a flickering golden light – it appeared to be on fire.

‘I should be where I’m needed,’ said the voice.

This time Deborah saw the lips move on the statue. The bronze appeared soft and flesh-like and radiated with warmth - a steady light now engulfed it.

‘I must be losing my mind,’ said Deborah loudly.

‘I think you may just be finding your mind,’ said Kwan Yin, ‘Deborah, I have a request to make of you.’

Deborah regained her composure and strangely enough the situation seemed acceptable to her – a talking statue.

‘Kwan Yin, I would be honoured to do anything for you,’ replied Deborah.

Deborah thought back to her childhood.

‘Can you do me a favour,’ Deborah’s mom would ask.

‘What do you want?’ Deborah would reply – her stock reply in fact.

And if Deborah were to ask the same question of her mom her mom would reply, ‘of course, what can I do?’

Later as a teenager Deborah came to embrace the same open and compassionate readiness to do a favour for others or to help in any way possible. ‘Sure I can help,’ became her stock reply.

‘I need to be among the people,’ said Kwan Yin, ‘I was locked in a vault for over sixty years…I need to reach out and be back in touch with people.’

‘At the museum on display you will see plenty of people – you won’t be locked away in a storage room,’ replied Deborah.

‘That will not do,’ Kwan Yin said defiantly. ‘I need to be in closer touch with the people.’

‘What do you suggest I do,’ asked Deborah.

‘Substitute the replica for me and send me out among the people,’ replied Kwan Yin.

‘You won’t know where you’ll end up,’ cautioned Deborah, ‘who knows what kind of person would buy the statue of you.’

‘The only people that would buy this statue in which I am embodied would be those with hearts and souls in need of repair,’ Kwan Yin said with certainty. ‘It will put me on a journey across the land and into the homes of countless people over the next couple of centuries.’

‘Even the smallest act of caring for another person is like a drop of water,’ added Kwan Yin, ‘it will make ripples throughout the entire pond – I need to be out among the people.’

‘And so it shall be,’ Deborah said with a great smile. She was glowing herself.

    ***********************************************************

One Week Prior to Bill’s Discovery

It was December 1st, Sylvie and Bella drove from Kingston to Toronto to visit the Royal Ontario Museum. Sylvie and her eight year-old daughter Bella shared the same birthday – December 17th.  Sylvie told Bella this trip was their collective birthday gifts. Bella was thrilled.

They had parked the car at the end of the Subway line – close to the highway. On their way downtown four men with long bushy black beards and dark complexions came on to the train. They were Sikhs. They had dark colour turbans and wore the same bulky red winter jackets with the Toronto Star embossed on the back. Each of them carried over their shoulders a large sash filled with newspapers. They huddled at the end of the subway car near Sylvie and Bella.

‘Mommy,’ said Bella as she was pointing over to the four Sikhs.

The four men looked over – they heard Bella and saw her point at them.

‘Shush,’ said Sylvie under her breath. Bella had never seen a Sikh before, let alone men with such long breads. Sylvie was afraid that Bella would blurt out an embarrassing remark.

Bella was not about to be shushed.

‘Mommy,’ Bella repeated, this time more loudly as she pointed more obviously at the men, ‘look...they’re delivering newspapers.’  

They emerged from the Museum Subway Station and started walking up University Avenue to Bloor Street. Turning around the corner on Bloor Street to the main entrance of the museum Bella saw a man in a motorized wheelchair speeding down the crowded sidewalk yelling rudely at people. The man barrelled down on pedestrians at twice the normal walking speed– cursing obscenities as they jumped aside to avoid a collision or as he swerved around them. 

‘Why is God punishing that man?’ asked Bella.

‘Honey, why do you think God is punishing him,’ asked Sylvie, ‘because he’s in a wheelchair?’

‘No…because he’s so angry and mean,’ replied Bella.

‘Honey, he’s angry because he’s given up on living,’ said Sylvie.

This provoked Sylvie to think about her mother. Sylvie would have had a tough and discouraging childhood had it not been for her optimistic nature and sweet disposition as a child. She had every reason to be tainted and angry at the world. Her mother, Katherine, never accepted her…even as a newborn. Sylvie was well aware of this from a young age onward. 

Her mother had become angry at the world and mean. Her mother was an island with aggressive impulses that led towards endless transformations of her entire being and she continuously tired of the same situations or surroundings. As a child Sylvie would finally get comfortable in a new neighbourhood when her mother would put the house up for sale and have them move across town. It got to the point where Dan, her father, decided to rent instead as they moved every three years.

Katherine constantly struggled for self-assertion in a world where she lacked the tools to sway the things that matter in her favour. She dropped out of college and married because she was pregnant with Sylvie. She could not see that she could have finished college with a child – she quickly embraced defeat and wallowed in it. With her authority and power stamped out she could not refrain from testing others with cutting remarks, not because she wanted to hurt them, but because she wanted to know them better through their reaction; for her, life and the feeling of aliveness were experienced through rebellion and tension. No one understood this and preferred to distance themselves from her. Katherine too didn’t understand that her treatment of people was the reason they became standoffish – her natural defence was to be unapproachable in return.

Giving birth to a child did not trigger any maternal love or blast away the doors of her indifference. Katherine remained aloof and anchored in her sullen world – the only new feeling that was invoked by motherhood was an obligation to supply food and shelter and take care of other basic needs for Sylvie – and Katherine was a good provider of material needs.

Sylvie turned six years-old when her mother gave her a strange birthday gift. It was an old wooden box trimmed with brass edges – it had a small locking door in the front – it came with an old brass skeleton key to open the door – inside the box was Sylvie’s silver Christening Chalice.

‘I’ve given you the key to life and an empty cup,’ Katherine said to Sylvie. ‘It’s upon you and you alone to unlock the doors in life and fill your cup…this is the extent to which I can help you in life…no more.’

As Sylvie aged, the relationship with her mother did not warm up. Katherine remained silent, introverted and secretive, mulling over turbulent thoughts in the depths of her mind, leaving others puzzled by her peculiar behaviour.

In her teens, Sylvie deduced that her mother was slipping deeper into the shadows each year of life. She saw that her mother was succumbing to depression. Why?  Because she lost any sense of hope, a sense of future possibilities, it was slowly, year by year killing her and her fire was simply going out. 

Sylvie vowed that above all else she would stay inspired and always look forward to the next bend around the corner in life regardless of any setbacks in life. And Sylvie would have many setbacks to face.

Sylvie’s husband, Frank, left her when Bella was two years-old – he said he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood and he wasn’t attracted to her anymore.

Sylvie thought about her father. He was a light hearted and fun loving man who didn’t take life too seriously. Her dad stayed with her mother despite her gloomy and detached demeanour. At least her mother had the relentless support of a man who had not given up on her.

‘Sylvie, your mom is struggling with life in this world,’ her dad said when he took her aside after she opened her gift and clearly showed her puzzlement over the key and chalice - at six years-old Sylvie had a sense of what this meant for her future.

‘The root of your mom’s difficulty is that she cannot adjust to the limitations of her reality. She is unsure of herself in the world and has succumbed to failure. She has given up and is going through life as if it is not real…for her life is just a cruel comedy being acted out on a stage.’

‘You, on the other hand, hold the key to success in life,’ her dad said, ‘maybe that’s why Mom gave you the key - your spirit soars and there will never be any obstacle in life that will anchor you down or keep you from chasing and opening the doors you want in life – Sweetie, your cup is ready to be filled with the best life has to offer - always keep the faith.’

Sylvie knew that she had every right to go into a tailspin when her husband left. It was just her and Bella – Frank insisted on giving up any custody of his daughter against Sylvie’s pleas to do otherwise. Sylvie felt totally abandoned and disillusioned – knocked to the ground by a mother that could not love her and a husband that could not cope or deal with the relationship. It hurt her to think about how this may pain Bella growing up.

‘How can a man give up his daughter?’ asked Sylvie of her dad, ‘Frank, spent two years raising Bella and now he can walk away and give it all up.’

‘An immature man wants to die nobly for a cause,’ said Sylvie’s dad, ‘while a mature man wants to live humbly for one…Frank is a weak and confused man, he is deluded and thinks there are greater conquests out there than spending this life with you and his daughter – those types of men want everything to come easily and if it doesn’t they give up easily.’ Her dad paused, and then added, ‘you tend to provide temporary shelter to lost souls at sea…best to avoid those types in the future.’

‘Watch out for those who pay only lip service to lofty ideals of parenthood or have a theoretical attachment to the notion of it,’ added Frank, ‘Sylvie, you need to weed them out and find a man with a grounded sense of himself…a man who embraces solid moral standards in words and deeds – a man who is capable of making sacrifices for the sake of parenthood and loved ones.’

After a month battling with her grief over Frank’s departure Sylvie laughed at the thought of giving in or letting her beacon of hope dim or extinguish. She was aware that her fire was on the verge of dimming low, but before it began to flicker, she found a new spark to keep it strong. She said to herself my life must have new goals and I will thrive – raising Bella and spreading joy and love in life is a worthy quest.

‘No way,’ Sylvie whispered to herself as they entered the museum, ‘no way will I ever fall into the shadows of despair and become angry at the world.’

Sylvie and Bella came to Toronto on many occasions. Sylvie wanted Bella to be exposed to the culture and energy of a big city. They loved those adventures of riding the TTC and going into the bowels of the city to old bookstores, spending hours in the amazing Art Gallery and Museum, outdoor cafes while people watching, as well as the kids' rides at Toronto Island…and of course there was the zoo. 

Sylvie read stories to Bella every night, which Bella loved - stories about kids and adventures all over the world. Sylvie even dramatized them and they came alive for Bella. Sylvie and Bella had a wealth of games and fun on the go all the time.

Sylvie was not over-compensating for the lack of love and direction from her mother. Sylvie was merely acting on a yearning passion a mother feels for her child – she did not have to reach down inside to get it…it wells up on its own. Sylvie had a genuine compassion and love to give and an endless zest for motherhood. She sincerely desired to guide Bella in finding the right path and providing her with the best possible education to reach her individual star.  Sylvie also loved to have great adventures with Bella; taking her camping, traveling, and gaining a sense of the bigger, wider world out there. She could hardly wait to take Bella to the Grand Canyon next summer – her first time there ten years ago was awe inspiring – she knew that going back to see them with Bella would be even more spectacular.

They entered the museum. After going through the natural science exhibitions and seeing the dinosaurs and animals and insects from all over the world and of course the bat cave…they went to view the ancient Asian exhibit.  Sylvie was raised a Catholic but she had been embracing world views and fusing many other beliefs into her own set of values and guiding principles. She was incorporating the many teachings from Buddhism into her life. The Asian art was an incredible tribute to the legacy of and practice of Buddhism…she was blown away by the art and artefacts.

Afterwards they went into the gift shop.  Bella was over in the kid’s section when Sylvie saw the statue of Kwan Yin being set up by the staff on a pedestal by the window. It was beautiful and totally captured her heart. She read the write-up on Kwan Yin and felt an instant connection. She looked at the price tag - $1,500.00…'ouch' she thought. Bella came over.

‘Mommy, she is beautiful…can we take her home with us?’ asked Bella.

‘Gee, Honey, she’s very expensive,’ replied Sylvie, ‘we really can’t afford it.’

‘I’ll help pay,’ said Bella, ‘and I won’t expect any Christmas gifts.’

Sylvie was overwhelmed with Bella’s response – and in addition to the story about Kwan Yin, she did feel a powerful bond to the statue itself – it was a no brainer…

‘Ok, Honey, we’ll take her home.’

‘Mommy, Grandpa told me that our birthdays fall on the full moon this year,’ said Bella, ‘my teacher says it’s called the Little Spirit Moon…Kwan Yin, you and I can be the three Little Spirits.’

  ***********************************************************

Present Day

Sylvie and Bella were home, busy at the crafts table set up in the dining room when the phone rang. Sylvie answered it.

‘Hello is this Sylvie Boit,’ said the voice on her phone.

‘Yes,’ replied Sylvie.

‘This is Irene Wilson from the Royal Ontario Museum,’ said Irene, ‘I’m calling about the statue you bought from our gift shop.’

‘Yes, what is it?’ asked Sylvie.

‘It has come to our attention that the statue may have a toxic coating on it,’ cautioned Irene, ‘Mr. Bill Hamilton is coming to Kingston to confirm this – no worries – we will clean up the  statue and then it’s totally safe – if not we can replace it.’

‘Could Mr. Hamilton come to your house on Tuesday, December 17th to check it out?’ asked Irene.

‘Tomorrow...well alright...I’ll be here at 3:30 if he wants to come by,’ replied Sylvie, ‘I assume you have the address.’

‘Yes, we do, thank you,’ said Irene.

   ************************************************************

Bill had done his homework - he was sure that there was no connection between Dr. Dawson and Sylvie Boit. What could this be all about then he thought. He showed up exactly at 3:30 p.m. Sylvie lived in a modest two bedroom detached house in a blue collar part of downtown Kingston. Sylvie and Bella greeted him at the door. He noticed the place was uncluttered and the furniture was modern – with very clean lines. Sylvie took him into the living room. Bill was struck by the wonderful air about Sylvie - she looked very regal.

A picture over the sofa stood out for him – it was a collage of magazine pictures of various TV shows and stars as well as advertisements for products like cars, vacations ads , computers and so on. The collage of photos was set behind eight remote controls that were fasted on to the picture like they had been dropped like pick-up sticks and frozen in time. Bill immediately knew the anti-consumerism meaning of the picture and he found it to be very original and refreshing.

‘Where did you get that picture,’ asked Bill, pointing to the remote control collage.

‘Oh that,’ replied Sylvie, ‘I did that.’

‘It is fantastic,’ said Bill, ‘how did you come up with the idea?’

‘Funny you should ask,’ replied Sylvie, ‘my dad was over here one time…I was making lunch for Bella, on the phone with a client, and my laundry and oven timers rang off at the same time…later when I was on the sofa my dad unexpectedly tossed four remotes at me…I could only catch one…then he gave me a lecture about staying focused on one task at a time…"multi-tasking results in inferior outcomes," he said.’

‘I thought about his lesson and his means of making his point…tossing the remotes at me,’ said Sylvie, ‘I knew he was right…I had taken on too much in life...I knew I needed to simplify my life so I took all my remotes and made this picture - and simplified my life.’

'What are you making at the crafts table,' asked Bill.

'Today is Bella and my birthdays - we were just making each other a little gift,' replied Sylvie.

'Well a big day then...happy birthday to you both,' Bill said cheerfully.

‘Let me show you Kwan Yin,’ said Sylvie.

Bill looked the statue over.

‘I need to take it to my van,’ noted Bill, ‘I can test it there for the toxin and wash it down if need be – I’ll be back in 15 minutes.’

‘Alright, go ahead,’ replied Sylvie.

‘I don’t want him to take it,’ piped out Bella, ‘Kwan Yin told me she wants to live with us.’

‘Oh, Honey, it’s just a statue,’ replied Sylvie, ‘how would you know what it wants?’

‘She told me so,’ said Bella, ‘she is here because we need her and she needs us – she lights up and talks to me sometimes.’

‘No worries, Bella, I will bring her right back,’ said Bill.

In the van the replica statue was ready to act as a replacement. Bill pulled out his kit to carbon date Sylvie's statue. He reached inside the hollow base of the statue to scrape some metal filings off …strange…he felt something unusual. He reached in further and pulled out a roll of paper. He unravelled it – it read:

I figure the only person who would discover this note is someone from the museum investigating the authenticity of the Kwan Yin statue. So here you have it - this is the REAL two thousand year-old statue.

My name is Dr. Deborah Dawson. I was commissioned to buy this statue…when I had it back at the LA Museum...OK, leap of faith here…well I hope you believe me…the statue talked to me. Maybe I was going crazy…after all…I was dying and only had a week or two left. But, Kwan Yin told me she did not want to be wasting away on a pedestal at the museum…she wanted to be set free on a journey among the people.

As my last great act of compassion I sent Kwan Yin off to the Royal Ontario Museum gift shop so she could start her journey. I knew whoever bought her would be in the good and helpful hands of Kwan Yin. I knew that through the course of time it would be people in need of love and compassion that would come to possess Kwan Yin…and that Kwan Yin could fulfill her mission to comfort and bring solace good people in need.

The Kwan Yin replica back at the museum was made by Tibetan monks and is a master piece – it will serve the museum well. I implore you to let whoever is in possession of the original statue to keep it.

I pray for your understanding and compassion.

Shine on…

Deborah

Bill was breathless. He looked over at the original statue of Kwan Yin now placed on the floor of the van sitting beside the replica statue that he was going to replace it with. The original began to glow bright yellow and orange…he couldn’t believe it. Then suddenly it stopped glowing.

   ************************************************************

Sylvie answered the door. Bill was standing there with the statue.

‘It’s all good now,’ said Bill, ‘this one did not have the toxic coating.’

‘That’s so good to hear,’ replied Sylvie, ‘she cost me more than I could afford, but Bella and I were so wooed by her…we had to bring her home. And I know this will sound bizarre but the first week she was with us our fortunes improved – my on-line website began to get orders for my arts and crafts…so much so that I soon will be able to give up a day job I’m not too keen on and live off my passion for creating art.’

‘Well, she’s all yours again - I hope the good fortune continues,’ replied Bill.

Bill set her back on the pedestal and was about to leave.

‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Hamilton,’ said Sylvie.

‘Oh yes, Merry Christmas,’ replied Bill, ‘by the way your art is wonderful…you're a talented artist - your creations will sell well...I'm sure I'll order one for myself on-line.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Sylvie. She shut the door - I wonder if he's single she thought.

Bill got back in the van. 

'Damn it Bill,' he blurted out as he banged the steering wheel. 

He got out of his car and knocked on Sylvie's door.

'Hi,' he said nervously, 'can I take you and Bella out to AquaTera for your birthday dinner.' He couldn't hold back a big smile and he was almost blushing.

'That would be wonderful' replied Sylvie as she contained her excitement, 'we'd love to go - I hear AquaTera is an amazing place.'

'This gift will mean the world to Bella and I,' Sylvie said...she paused for a second and gave Bill a big hug.

Bella was in the other room admiring the statue and glad to have her back…when Kwan Yin began to glow…all the colours of the rainbow.

‘Mommy, quick - come here,’ yelled out Bella.