It's months now that I am living here.

Day by day.

I know all our kids.

The naughty, the shy, the arrogant, the lazy, the kind, the easy-minded, the greedy.

They go from four to seventeen yrs old.

They come from three different ethnic groups.

They speak two languages.

Most of them come from very poor backgrounds.

Some from terrible ones

Not an easy situation.

Nevertheless, there is no violence here.

No bullying.

Of course, sometimes the smaller ones beat each other. But in an easy-going, brotherly way. No grudges stay.

They take care of one another always.

They share things lightly.

A new boy has arrived? Everybody will do his best to make him feel at home.

Does a tiny one cry? Three older boys are already running to see what is going on, and consoling him.

I have never seen something like that in 61 years of life.

I feel privileged to live here, and, believe me, sometimes it's a quite challenging.

But here I found something so incredibly precious: love, compassion, humanity.

A lot of joy.

This is result of the work of the senior monks. Of our late and actual Khempos. Of the sacrifice of his dream from Lama Yonten Sangpo.

This monastery shows me, every day, how life could be if we were better people.