The small child sat on the Master's lap with his head resting back against the old man's chest. Being late spring, shadows were just beginning to creep across the gardens. Ping Hi cherished this hour spent each day with Kwai Chang Caine's small son. When the weather was nice, as it was today, he and little Peter could always be found in the gardens. The old Master had long forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of a soul just beginning its journey….. until now. Peter was a precocious child, filled with many questions, and the world was a smorgasbord of wonders for one so small.

Ping Hi was teaching the child Chinese. Although Peter could already speak some Chinese, Ping Hi used part of their time together each day to increase his vocabulary. Peter was still three months away from his third birthday and it would be a couple of years yet before the boy would be ready to start any type of formal training at the Shaolin temple. Peter, in turn, was teaching the old Master to see the world with the simple clarity of a child. Today, Ping Hi sat in a chair swing with the little boy cuddled on his lap, reading him a story.

Six months ago, Kwai Chang Caine had buried his beloved wife, the child's mother. Caine had worked very hard after his wife's death to simply provide the necessities of life for himself and his small son. It took the Dalai Lama to finally convince the struggling young father to move into the temple to teach and raise his young son. Peter had been living in the temple less than a month when Ping Hi decided to add the chair swing to the gardens.

With a giggle, Peter twisted his head to look up at the Master. "Funny story," he pronounced. Ping Hi smiled and, nestling his face against the child's soft curls, continued reading.

He had given a large portion of his soul to this particular child shortly after his birth, when he had held him in his arms and gazed into the depths of those expressive eyes. Even then, the child's chi had been strong and the light from his soul bright. He had also given a part of his soul to the child's father, Kwai Chang Caine, years before the child's mother and father met.

The old Master recalled a time when Kwai Change spent all of his days studying and wandering. During one of his short visits to the temple, he had met Peter's mother. Laura had been a beauty, her spirit filled with light, laughter, and the pure joy of living. In Ping Hi's opinion, she had been exactly what the young man needed. To the shy, quiet, studious young Shaolin she had brought the gift of love, and he had fallen hard. The light radiating from her soul drew him like a moth to a flame. Ping Hi smiled to himself. Poor Kwai Chang, he never knew what hit him. Laura had also taught the reticent young priest to laugh, to pause along the way and smell the flowers of life, and to not take himself so seriously. That beautiful young woman had changed Kwai Chang's life and set the young priest on the road to his destiny. Their time together on this plane of existence had been short, but Ping Hi knew their love had been a blessing from the gods and would dwell deep within their souls for eternity.

The old Shambhala Master knew also of the words written in the Book of Shambhala regarding the destiny of the small soul now sitting upon his lap; words which had yet to be revealed to the child's father. He did not yet know the full extent of the child's destiny, for the Book of Shambhala continued to be written with the passage of time. One day Kwai Chang Caine would also become a Shambhala Master, for so it was written, and in following his own destiny the importance of his small son's existence would eventually be revealed. Father, son, and Master Ping Hi would, as their paths unfolded, be called upon to face many difficulties and unexpected challenges before this tiny being, presently learning Chinese from the old Master, would fulfill his destiny. Ping Hi sighed and his thoughts veered away from the future to thoughts of a more immediate and pressing nature. He must speak with the child's father soon. But first, the small boy needed to finish today's lesson. Peter was very bright and it was a pleasure to teach him, but he was also filled with immense energy and his interest at this tender age was difficult to capture for long. Today's story must be completed quickly.

A very boisterous Peter Caine sat in a tub of warm water. Wet curls clung to his neck, ears and forehead and tiny droplets attached themselves to his long dark lashes. He usually complained loudly when it was bath time, but once in he thoroughly enjoyed himself. He splashed noisily while providing sound effects for the many toys floating in the water around him, toys made for him by his father and other priests at the temple. Peter stopped his splashing just long enough to sing the latest children's song, taught to him by one of the priests. With focused concentration, he attempted to properly control the movements of his fingers while belting out, "Iddy biddy spider crawled up da water spout. Down come da rain…...aaaand washed da spider out!" Peter's singing was heard by several priests passing nearby, producing many smiles and chuckles.

Kwai Chang Caine stood within sight of his rambunctious son. He was often amazed how much Peter was the image of his mother. You bring me such joy, my son. Yours is a brilliant light, which shines within my soul, as was your mother's. A deep sadness pushed at Caine's consciousness, causing his smile to slowly fade. Painful memories began to bubble up from the recesses of his soul, battering against his resisting mind. Closing his eyes, it was with great effort that he managed to suppress them. He would not allow these most precious moments with his only child to be ruined by those particular memories. Shortly, he would remove his son from the bath, towel him dry with a large, soft towel and dress him in warm pajamas. He would then saver the moments spent sitting in the very same chair used by his beloved wife to rock their son to sleep each night, cuddling the small, sweet-smelling bundle in his arms. After a story and a lullaby, Peter would soon be asleep.

Only after Peter was safely tucked into bed would Kwai Chang Caine lose the battle to fight off the terrible sadness tearing at his heart. A great sorrow had taken possession of his spirit on the day his beloved Laura began her new journey. Since coming to the temple, Caine had discovered a temporary sanctuary from the all-consuming grief…meditation. There, for a portion of each day, he was able to escape into a mindless void of his own making. It was a place where painful memories were banished. He knew such self-indulgence was not acceptable for a Shaolin priest, but like a drowning man, he found himself unable to resist the temporary escape it provided.

Standing in the shadows observing the young Shaolin father, his face seemingly void of emotion, Ping Hi felt the sorrow burdening the younger man's spirit, and his soul wept for Kwai Chang Caine, whom he loved as a son. The old Master had lived many years and was quite familiar with the burden the younger priest now carried, but he was also aware of a path fraught with great danger in using meditation as an escape. If Caine did not soon change his focus, it would be his undoing, for the young Shaolin had yet to allow the healing to begin.

Even more importantly, he had begun to draw away from his son; to distance himself. He now spent less time with Peter. It was indeed an onerous task for the old Master to chastise the young, grieving Shaolin, but Kwai Chang Caine must be shown the inherent dangers in his chosen path before it was too late. Peter needed his father. The boy had lost his mother and he too grieved. A child so young had no way of expressing such profound grief. This young father needed to embrace his own pain and release it so that he might help his son to heal. Ping Hi felt the pull of meditation on the younger man's soul, his desire to escape. He did not doubt that once again Kwai Chang would be unable to resist. He would spend yet another night in a state of blank, mindless meditation, allowing nothing to enter. The old Master shook his head and sighed.

The sun was high in the brittle blue sky. Soft puffy clouds skittered across its empty spaces. Peter Caine bubbled with laughter as he ran down the walkway and started around the fishpond with Kim Li in pursuit, unable to catch the child. Kim Li was one of the older initiates in the temple. He was assigned to care for the small whirlwind that was Kwai Chang Caine's son. He thoroughly enjoyed spending every Tuesday and Thursday morning in the gardens with this bundle of energy. Peter was bright and his personality sparkled like raindrops falling from a sun-drenched sky. Kim Li liked working with children and assisted daily in the teaching of several classes for some of the younger students. Peter was the youngest and smallest child in the temple. Suddenly, Kim Li reversed directions and caught the squealing child as he rounded the pond.

As far as Peter was concerned, Kim Li ranked just behind his father and "Penhi" as one of Peter's favorite people.

The old Master appeared in the garden. "Peter, come, it is time for the mid-day meal. I can see that you are in need of much nourishment, little one."

Bowing deeply in deference to the Shambhala Master, Kim Li smiled. "You are correct, Master. This little one uses much energy, including much of mine."

Ping Hi returned the young initiate's smile. "His father and I thank you for the excellent care you give him, Kim Li. He enjoys his mornings in your care. You have the youth to drain enough of his boundless energy to allow for an afternoon nap. Come, Peter. We must make you presentable. We do not wish to be late."

"I not wanna nap! Can I come back and play wiff Kim Li?" Peter asked as he moved toward the outstretched hand of the Shambhala Master.

"You may return on Thursday morning, little one. Kim Li has required activities to attend."

Peter frowned as he placed his tiny hand within the Master's much larger one. As they entered the temple, Peter gazed up at the priest. "Where's my Fadder, Penhi? I spose to eat wiff my Fadder. He will miss me!" Peter began to drag his feet.

Looking down into the tiny, upturned face pleading with him, a profound sadness settled around his heart. <Kwai Chang Caine! Can you not see what you are doing to the very one you love most in this world!? I must bring you back into the light, my friend, before further damage is inflicted.> With that thought, the old Master bent down and in spite of his advanced age and seemingly frail body, lifted the small boy into his arms.

Once Peter had been made presentable and consumed as much of the mid-day meal as was normal for him, Ping Hi put the child down for his afternoon nap. Peter's early rising and his vigorous morning activities most often guaranteed that he could be counted on to nap for at least two hours. Early afternoons were quiet in the temple, with everyone focused on various activities of their own choosing. Ping Hi always reserved this time to take care of temple business. Today would be no exception. He knew where Kwai Chang could be found at this very moment: meditating. The old priest sighed heavily and, shaking his head, moved off to another part of the temple.

Young Peter's sleep was restless. He was dreaming of his mother.
Peter and his mother ran through a meadow filled with an array of colorful wildflowers and beautiful butterflies. Peter loved butterflies. He ran through the field chasing after the largest one he had ever seen. His mother stood a short distance away, facing him. Her laughter made him laugh. She held out her hand and a huge Monarch settled on the end of one finger. Peter came to a sudden stop, his eyes widening in amazement. His mother smiled and slowly folded down into the grass, coming to rest upon her knees. Slowly she raised her other hand and placed a finger against her lips indicating for him to remain quiet as she beckoned him to come closer. Peter's grin grew as he carefully approached his mother's side. Taking hold of her son's small hand, she drew it toward the resting butterfly. Peter was enthralled. Ever so gently, with his mother's guiding hand, he barely touched the tip of one wing with one small finger. Suddenly, the Monarch took flight. His mother giggled and gathering him to her, placed quick kisses all over his tiny face. Peter squealed, squirming in his mother's arms. When she stopped, he threw his small arms around her neck and gave her his biggest hug.

The child's eyes suddenly opened and he quickly sat up. "Mommy! Where are you, mommy!? Peter glanced around the room and then slid off the bed to begin a search of the room. Although he did not actually remember the dream, the emotions and fragmented memories it evoked were very real to the child. He truly believed that his mother was close by and that if he searched long enough, he would find her.

Had his father been there to see the expression of hope and the desperate search initiated by his son for his mother, it would have broken his heart, but Kwai Chang was presently in another part of the temple in deep meditation.

Peter left the room to widen his search. So convinced was he that his mother was simply playing a game of "hid 'n seek," which she had often down with her son, that a huge smile engulfed his face. With the simplicity of his two-year-old faith, he was certain she was waiting for him. The temple was very quiet and there was not a soul in sight to observe Peter's exit into the back gardens.

"Mommy, I come fine you!" At that precise moment the child's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. A large and most beautiful butterfly fluttered into view, evoking a fragment of memory from the recent dream: him, his mother and butterflies. Walking as slowly and carefully as he could for a two-year old, Peter advanced on the flower now holding the Monarch. "Hi butterfwy. You know where my mommy is? You take me see my mommy?"

The insect fluttered off to a new flower with the small boy following. Each time the child approached the butterfly, it skittered away, eventually leading Peter to the gate at the far end of the gardens. Bouncing along with wings fluttering, it passed through the open gate with the two-year old in hot pursuit. Peter was afraid the butterfly would leave him behind and he would never find his mother, whom he just knew was waiting for him. The Monarch continued to angle off down a long slope toward a rock wall running along the cliffs. The child's eyes never left the bright fluttering wings, as his short legs pumped to keep up.

The Monarch reached the wall ahead of the little boy, where it hovered for a moment. Peter called out, "Wait butterfwy, wait for me! I come wiff you!" The tiny child struggled mightily to pull his small body up onto the wall.

Kwai Chang Caine was an hour into his afternoon meditation. He floated serenely in a void carefully created and guarded by the protective barriers of his mind. Suddenly, something brushed against the edges of his mind, surprising him. What could possible be reaching out to him? It continued to push insistently at the perimeter of the void. He felt a gentle and familiar warmth spread throughout his body. Caine lowered his mind's barriers. A scene quickly slid into view and played out behind his closed eyes. The young father watched his son chasing a large butterfly. Caine recognized the location. It was outside the temple walls, which momentarily puzzled him. Why would this vision appear to be where his child was not? Peter should be napping this time of day. Kwai Chang watched curiously as his son continued to chase after the butterfly, his short legs struggling to keep up. He looked beyond the boy and the bouncing Monarch and saw that both were quickly approaching the wall that extended along the cliffs. The priest reached out to his son's essence and with sudden clarity, Caine gasped! This vision was taking place now, at this very moment! The sudden realization jarred the young priest to the bottom of his soul!

"NO!" rang throughout the temple as his eyes flew open and he rose in one fluid motion. The young Shaolin started off at a dead run, his fear propelling him. Those who saw him in the temple corridors also saw the look of terror on his face and realized something terrible must have happened to cause such a reaction in this normally reticent man. And they knew also there was only one thing which could possibly put that look on the face of Master Caine. Something must have happened to Peter!

Ping Hi felt Caine's raw terror slam into his mind as he poured over the scrolls before him and there was no doubt in his mind what was capable of injecting such fear into the young Shaolin…..Peter! Belying his age, Ping Hi hurried after the younger priest, knowing instinctively which way he went. By the time the old Master passed through the garden gate at the far end of the temple grounds, a goodly number of priests had already gathered, as they watched the drama unfolding below them. Nearly all of the younger priests and initiates were running down the hill toward the far end of the wall with Kwai Change Caine out-distancing them all!

The young priest ran as if his life depended upon it because it did. If he lost the very thing that meant more to him than life itself, then he would surely not survive. The very thought of losing his precious son was unbearable. He wanted to scream at Peter to stop, but he needed all his breath to reach him in time. Kwai Chang lengthened his stride and strained to close the distance between himself and his small son. The scene before him took on a surreal quality, as if time itself were suspended. Peter had just managed to pull himself up onto the low wall and with one small, outstretched hand he began to follow the fluttering Monarch as it stayed just out of reach. Peter called out something, but the blood rushing past Kwai Chang's ears and the pounding of his terrified heart deafened him to all other sounds. With every fiber of his being focused on his precious child, he was totally oblivious to the running footsteps behind him or the infusion of the old Master's chi in an attempt to strengthen him and increase his speed.

Being totally unaware of the drama playing out just behind him, Peter's eyes never left the bouncing butterfly. "Here butterfwy, stop! Wait for me. You have to take me to my mommy!"

Ping Hi observed the horrific scene below him. He knew that if this day should end in the loss of Kwai Chang's son, it would be the end of the young priest, destiny or no destiny. Ping Hi wasn't so sure that he himself would survive the loss of this child, whom he loved dearly. All he could do now was to continue strengthening the younger priest's chi with his own as he ran toward the child.

Kwai Chang's eyes never left the figure of his son. He was drawing closer, gaining precious ground. "No!" echoed through his mind as he watched the distance between the Monarch and his son suddenly widen, causing the fear gripping his soul to increase ten-fold as the boy began to run along the top of the wall after the butterfly. Caine knew he was quickly gaining on Peter, he was almost there….and then it happened! The wall made a sharp turn and narrowed as it angled off down the hill away from the temple. As Peter reached the sharp turn, the small foot nearest the cliff's edge suddenly slipped off the wall. He fell hard, face down, clutching at the smooth rocks as his body began to slowly slide over the edge of the wall toward the abyss below. Kwai Change could see the total panic on his son's face as his hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth rocks. In his frantic grappling, the boy managed to latch onto a small green plant growing up through the rocks. He froze as the small plant momentarily arrested his descent. Kwai Chang wasn't sure which would let go first, the plant or his son.

He reached the wall just as the plant finally gave up it's hold on the meager soil and the boy once again began to slide over the edge of the wall. In that split second before Peter disappeared from sight, Kwai Chang Caine made a flying lunge for his precious child. Grabbing one small arm, he pulled the boy back up onto the wall and into his arms. Although Peter did not make a sound, Caine felt his son's entire body begin to tremble. Legs unwilling to support him any longer, the young father collapsed onto the edge of the wall. Peter buried his face against his father's neck, clutching at his shirt. Rocking the child in his arms, Caine buried his hand in Peter's dark curls, cupping his small head. He crooned comforting words into his son's ear.

At that moment, the others who had made the mad dash down the hill arrived. Out of breath, they simply stood watching Caine and his son. Relief flooded each face. He had reached the boy in time.

Peter still had not uttered a sound. Finally, the first small sob escaped and then the floodgates opened. He began to bawl in earnest, as his father continued to murmur words of comfort.

Each priest and initiate slowly filed past father and son to briefly lay a gentle hand on the small figure in Caine's arms, as each gave thanks for the child's life. Kwai Chang acknowledged their concern and support with a nod of his head as each passed. The group then began the ascent back to the temple….with the exception of one. Kim Li, who had been the first to arrive at the wall behind Caine, stood quietly with hands folded in front of him, his eyes never leaving Peter and his father. He had never experienced such gut-wrenching fear as he had during his all out dash to the wall. Kim Li took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, centering himself. After all, the boy was now safely secured within the strong arms of his father.

Ping Hi waited patiently for Kwai Chang and his son to reach his position next to the garden gate. The old Master knew that the young child and his father must yet face the coming nightmares of this day. He knew also that it would be the father who would suffer greatest in the coming weeks, for it was the father who must face not only his son's nightmares, but his own. He would do everything within his power to guide the young priest through the coming ordeal.

Part 1   Part 2

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