I, Bodhichitta!

"Just one more step, and you're mine," Bodhichitta says, stalking her prey. A giant bullfrog that'll be just perfect to put in the punch bowl at her perfect cousin Linda's sweet 16 birthday party. As the rest of the family were busy readying the house for the party, 11-year old Bodhichitta was active in the barren pear tree grove. Chasing down a bullfrog and coming up with ways to ruin her cousin's party, in front of all her snooty friends. A frog in the punch bowl would serve Linda right for eating Bodhichitta's piece of chocolate cake this afternoon. Bodhichitta had every right to that cake. Who cares if she was sent to bed early the night before for shaving the cat. First of all the idea was Linda's and everyone knew how much she loved chocolate cake. By lunchtime that day, Bodhichitta was starving and couldn't wait to eat her cake, but when she got to the kitchen, Linda was sitting at the kitchen table eating her piece of cake.

 "Oh, was this your piece of cake, Lil Bodhi?" Linda says, being saccharine-sweet fake. Bodhicitta would have scratched her eyes out if their grandmother wasn't sitting at the table watching.

 "Don't worry, Bodhichitta, you'll have plenty of cake this evening at the party," Grandma sweetly says as she mixes up a big bowl of potato salad.

 But Bodhichitta didn't want that nasty old cake. For one thing, she hated vanilla. That was Linda's favorite, the same Linda who claimed to hate chocolate but was now devouring Bodhichitta's piece of cake like the cow she was. For two, she didn't want to have anything to do with this evening's festivities. She didn't want to celebrate anything about her evil cow of a cousin Linda. The latter did "Just one more step, and you're mine," Bodhichitta says, stalking her prey. A giant bullfrog that'll be just perfect to put in the punch bowl at her perfect cousin Linda's sweet 16 birthday party. As the rest of the family were busy readying the house for the party, 11-year old Bodhichitta was active in the barren pear tree grove. Chasing down a bullfrog and coming up with ways to ruin her cousin's party.

 In front of all her snooty friends, a frog in the punch bowl would serve Linda right for eating Bodhichitta's piece of chocolate cake this afternoon. Bodhichitta had every right to that cake. Who cares if she was sent to bed early the night before for shaving the cat. First of all the idea was Linda's and everyone knew how much she loved chocolate cake. By lunchtime that day, Bodhichitta was starving and couldn't wait to eat her cake, but when she got to the kitchen, Linda was sitting at the kitchen table eating her piece of cake.



Bodhichitta had come to live with her paternal grandmother as an infant. After her parents were killed in a car accident on the way to a party. Bodhichitta never knew them, and her grandmother was the only parent she had ever known. Until last year, her father's brother and his family came to live with them in her grandmother's large Victorian home. Her uncle had lost everything speculating on the stock market and returned to his childhood home a broken man. He was a drunk who felt that the way Bodhichitta's grandmother raised her was wrong and punished the poor little girl for anything he deemed inappropriate. His wife wasn't much better. They lamented every one of Bodhichitta's actions. At the same time, they ignored their own daughter's fault, allowing her to grow into a brat.

 So Bodhichitta held no remorse for what she was about to do. Chasing the frog all the way to the frozen pond. Bodhichitta climbed over the slippery rocks that lined the bank of the pond, slinking down to watch as the bullfrog jumped from one rock to the other. Waiting for the perfect moment to catch it within her net. It was unusual to see bullfrogs at this time of year, but the last few days have been pretty warm for late February. So a few had come out of their dens, and Bodhichitta made sure she didn't lose this opportunity. The bullfrog was right where she wanted him, stuck in between 2 rocks. Taking the net that she and old Mr. Porter, grandma's caretaker, made last summer, Bodhichitta carefully made her way over to the rocks. She was just about to throw her net when she heard her name being called. Startled, Bodhichitta slipped and fell, hitting her head on a jagged rock. Before losing consciousness, she sees a pair of feet running away, leaving her there on the cold bank of the frozen pond and the frog free to find a safer place to sun itself.

 "Bodhichitta, Bodhichitta. Wake up, my love." A beautiful female voice says sweetly in her ear. It was funny just a second ago, Bodhichitta was scared, wet, and cold, but now she was dry and lying on what felt like warm summer grass.

 "Uh?" Bodhichitta says, opening her eyes to see two faces that she vaguely remembers staring back at her. "What, who are you, where am I, where's grandma?" she says, startled at what she sees around her. As far as the eye could see was the most beautiful blue sky she had ever seen. The landscape was equally stunning with its rolling hills of blue-green grass and wildflower fields bordered by a beautiful stream of crystal clear water, with orchards of peach, apple, plum, citrus, and pear trees in the backdrop. Turning to the two unfamiliar yet familiar people next to her, Bodhichitta asks again as she stands, "Where am I?"

 "Well, that's a little hard to explain." The beautiful woman with skin and eyes the same color as Bodhichitta says sweetly.

 "First, little one, we should probably introduce ourselves. I'm Wellington Mitchell Jr., and this is my wife, Amita." The handsome man with a head full of curly bronze-colored hair, the same as Bodhichitta, says to her, holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Wait, what?" Bodhichitta says, shaking her head because those were the same names as her dead parents. "You can't be, those are my parent's names, but they're dead. Are you their ghosts?" She asks in a panicked voice, ignoring his proffered hand.

"No, we're not ghosts, but we are your parents. We summoned you here." Amita says, kneeling down to look Bodhichitta in the eyes, taking the little girl's tiny hand into hers. "I knew this was going to be hard to explain," to her husband when the little girl didn't meet her gaze.

"You see, Bodhichitta we're in some weird space between life and death. One moment your mother and I were driving down the road. The next, we were here." Wellington says sadly, further confusing the little girl.

"I don't understand," Bodhichitta says on the verge of breaking down in tears. She was terrified that she was as dead. She had so many things she wanted to do, and she never got the chance to ruin her cousin's party.

"Has your grandmother taken you to church?" Her father asks

"Yes," Bodhichitta says, suddenly feeling sad that she may never see her grandmother again. She now wished she had tried to behave a little better. She knew the things she did, like shaving the cat, who was really Linda's cat, vexed her grandmother to no end. She wished she had the chance to apologize.

"Well, then you know what purgatory is, right?" Wellington asks, now holding the little girl's hand. Bodhichitta simply nods her head. "Then you know that purgatory is where people with unfinished business go, or thereabouts." Again Bodichitta nods her head, " Well, I think your mother and I are here because the unfinished business we have is you." He says, turning to his wife, taking her hand in his free hand. Completing the circle.

"Ok," Bodhichitta says, trying to keep her composure. Usually, she would be freaking out with the thought of talking to dead people. She didn't even like walking on the side of the church that held the graveyard. She always pictured bloody broken bodies like the ones she saw in that photo book. The one, her uncle, has locked in a desk drawer in what used to be Bodhichitta's favorite place, the library, but now all she saw was the beauty around her. She almost wished it was real.

"We don't have much time, my pear blossom, so I need you to listen to us as your father, and I explain some things to you," Amita says, stroking Bodhichitta's face. When the little girl nodded her head, Amita continued. "First, I want to explain your name to you," Amita says, motioning for Bodhichitta to sit as she was sitting. Wellington follows suit as Amita continues her explanation, "Your name in my native Buddhist religion means Elighntement-Mind. I had wished for you to have a name that represented everything we wanted you to be, but from here, we see these are things you are not being taught to you." Putting up a hand to stop whatever words Bodhichitta was about to say, Amita continues. "Now that is no slight on your grandmother, we think she is doing the best she can, but with her age, she is limited. We mean from your uncle and his family. We've seen the change within the last year, and we don't like it. You have become a child who is constantly vexing those around you. We want that to stop. Your uncle and his family will get what they deserve in life, but you don't have to follow them. Ok." Amita says, willing the little girl to look into her eyes.

Seeing the love within them, Bodhichitta nods her head. She never really liked doing those bad things, but she was just so mad at her uncle and his family for coming in and making grandma's life so much harder with all of their demands. Before they arrived, she never vexed grandma, well, not on purpose. It was grandma's money supporting them all in the first place. You would think they would be grateful, but no, they just demanded things like the party later today. Bodhichitta would change if only to ease grandma's vexations.

"That's my beautiful girl," Amita says with tears in her eyes as she rubs Bodhichitta's Lion's mane of hair.

"Now on to more serious matters," Wellington says, wiping an errant tear from his eyes, overcome with love from watching his beautiful wife and their daughter. This was a sight Wellington thought he'd never get to see, and he hated to ruin the scene with his following words, but he must. It was the only way to save her from a life of misery. "Your uncle is the one that killed us, and we need you to prove that!" He quickly says as if the words were going to burn his lips.

"Excuse me. What do you mean?" Bodhichitta says, suddenly sounding a lot more mature than her 11 years.

"Your father means just what he said. Your uncle, his brother, was the cause of our deaths that unfortunate night almost 11 years ago. We didn't simply drive off of that cliff. It wasn't even raining. Our car was run off of the cliff by your uncle's car. Your father looked right into his eyes just before we went over. There was no mistaking who the driver and the passenger were." Amita says sadly.

"My aunt and uncle," Bodhichitta whispers. Part of her brain didn't want to believe what they said, but she was a bright girl and knew their words to be true. "But why?" she asks.

"Why else? Money." Her father nonchalantly says, "With me gone, he's set to inherit everything. The house, the land, the money, even the money I left to mother for your care and future. If grandma was to die before you reach the age of 21, he gets control of everything. So that means your grandmother can be in danger as well." Wellington says as if suddenly realizing that fact.

"Grandma, why would he do that. She's his mother?" Bodhichitta asks.

"Money." Her parents answer in unison.

"Listen, Bodhichitta, we only have seconds. We need you to go back and gather all the proof you can linking your uncle to our deaths. There's plenty in the house. Once you gather it, send it to our lawyer, you know him as Mr. Porter. I know this is a lot to ask of one, so young be you are our only hope to stop him." Wellington says, looking into her eyes, pleading with her to understand.

"Can you do this?" Amita asks

"Yes, mommy," Bodhichitta courageously says right before she awakens.