The phenomenon of reincarnation has been known for thousands of years. An interesting case from her life, confirming the existence of the phenomenon of reincarnation, is cited in her book "Mystics and Magicians of Tibet" by the famous French traveler Alexandra David-Neil during her trip to Tibet.
Next to the palace of the lama-tulku Pegiai, with whom I lived in Kum-Boom, there was a dwelling of another tulku named Agnay-Tsang (he should not be confused with the great Aghya Tsang, the head of Kum-Bum, which was mentioned above). Seven years have passed since the death of the last Agnay-Tsang, and his incarnation has not yet been found. I do not think that this circumstance was too depressing for his steward. He was in uncontrolled control of all the property of the late lama, and his own fortune, apparently, was going through a period of pleasant prosperity.
During another commercial trip, the lama's quartermaster turned up to rest and quench his thirst at one of the farms. While the hostess was preparing tea, he took out a jade snuff box from his bosom and was about to treat himself to a sniff, when suddenly a boy who had been playing in the corner of the kitchen interfered with him, putting his hand on the snuff box and asking reproachfully:
- Why do you have my snuffbox?
The manager was dumbfounded. The precious snuffbox really did not belong to him. It was the snuffbox of the late Agnay-Tsang. Maybe he was not going to completely appropriate it, but nevertheless it was in his pocket and he constantly used it. He stood in embarrassment, trembling before the boy's stern, menacing gaze fixed on him: the baby's face suddenly changed, losing all childish features.
“Give it back now,” he ordered. “This is my snuffbox.
Filled with remorse, the frightened monk collapsed at the feet of his reincarnated master. A few days later, I watched as the boy was escorted with extreme pomp to his dwelling. He was wearing a robe of gold brocade, and he rode a magnificent black pony, which the manager was leading by the bridle. When the procession entered the palace fence, the boy made the following remark:
“Why,” he asked, “are we turning left? You need to go to the second courtyard through the gate to the right.
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And indeed, after the death of the lama, for some reason, the gates on the right were laid and replaced with others on the left. This new proof of the authenticity of the chosen one plunged the monks into admiration. The young lama was taken to his private chambers, where tea was served. The boy, sitting on a large pile of pillows, looked at the jade cup and saucer of gilded silver and the turquoise lid in front of him.
“Give me a large porcelain cup,” he ordered, and described the Chinese porcelain cup in detail, not forgetting the design that decorates it. Nobody has seen such a cup. The manager and the monks tried to respectfully convince the young lama that there was no such cup in the house. Just at that moment, taking advantage of the friendly relations with the manager, I entered the hall. I had already heard about the adventures with the snuff-box and I wanted to take a closer look at my extraordinary little neighbor. Following Tibetan custom, I presented the new lama with a silk scarf and several other gifts. He accepted them, smiling sweetly, but with a preoccupied look, continuing to think about his cup.
“Look better and you will find,” he assured.
And suddenly, like an instant flash, his memory lit up, and he added a few details about the chest, painted in such and such a color, which is located in such and such a place, in such and such a room, where things are kept that are used only occasionally. The monks briefly explained to me what they were talking about, and wanting to see what would happen next, I remained in the tulku room. Less than half an hour later, a cup with a saucer and a lid was found in a box at the bottom of the chest described by the boy.
“I had no idea about the existence of such a cup,” the manager assured me later. “The lama himself or my predecessor must have put it in this chest.” There was nothing else of value in it, and no one had looked there for several years.