Greetings all, I found this forum through the coast to coast show and thought it would be an excellent and informed place to post a few experiences from my life. It's all pretty exciting really to see so many people who enjoy and research and discuss this topic with such alacrity and care; and who, by and large, are not even Eastern! It seems obvious now that many more people in our western societies are coming to grips with this reality through books, shows, interviews, and the lessening of social stigma. So cool. Anyway, I'd like to tell you about something my daughter said to me one day. We were living in Costa Rica at the time and we had a restaurant on the beach there. I was sweeping the floors and getting ready to open up for the day and my daughter Thalia who was 4 years old then was staring into the distance with a glazed look on her face and suddenly seemed sad. I put my broom against the railing and asked her, "Are you OK Goobie?" (her nickname) She turned her face up to me and asked me in a low voice and matter of factly, "Do you remember when we were Japanese?" Now, I have beleived since I was a child about the realities of reincarnation, though I don't go around talking about it every day and certainly to this point it had never come up talking with her. She was 4! I was a bit shocked at her comment and the simple off-handed way she said it. I wanted to hear what she had to say but I didn't want to prompt her in any way so I responded with a simple, "I sure do sweetheart, do you?" "Yes," she said, "Thats why I am sad right now, I was just thinking about that." "What were you thinking about?" I asked. "Well," she said, and her eyes dropped to the floor. 'I was thinking about that little girl. That poor little girl." and she paused and looked at me like I was supposed to know what she was talking about. I didn't. So I asked her, "What do you remember about her?" "That she died. Remember how she just worked and worked and worked and worked and worked and worked and then she died? That was so sad." "Yeah", I responded, "That was sad. Do you remember who the little girl was?" I asked. Thalia spread her arms to be picked up and I obliged. Her eyes were moist. Thalia looked around into the garden that surrounded the restaurant and said in her still low sad voice, "I think she was my sister. You were still Daddy, but Mommy was my sister and the other sisters too, but I was just thinking about that little girl. So sad." I must confess that at this point I think my own eyes were welling up a bit watching and listening to this extraordinary event. "I think she is much better now." I told her. "Oh, I know." she said, "it was just sad. She's better now, and not so tired anymore." With a tear in my eyes I squeezed her into a spontaneous hug and she did likewise. At that moment a profound sense of relief washed over me. We stood there holding on to each other for a few minutes in silence watching the garden. At this point someone walked into the restaurant and the moment ended. I put her down and kissed her head and said I love you. 'I love you too daddy." and off she went to play. That is the only time she has ever mentioned anything PL oriented. She is almost 6 now. I practice martial arts and Japanese calligraphy and whenever she sees me doing either she always wants to practice too. The first time she picked up a brush she copied the characters I was making with great aplomb. Bold and strong. I just smile and shake my head wondering at this vast universe and all the parts we play in it. Utterly fascinating.