"Little sir, please be seated. I am talking to my Divine Mother."

Silently I had entered the room in great awe. The angelic
appearance of Master Mahasaya fairly dazzled me. With silky white
beard and large lustrous eyes, he seemed an incarnation of purity.
His upraised chin and folded hands apprized me that my first visit
had disturbed him in the midst of his devotions.

His simple words of greeting produced the most violent effect my
nature had so far experienced. The bitter separation of my mother's
death I had thought the measure of all anguish. Now an agony at
separation from my Divine Mother was an indescribable torture of
the spirit. I fell moaning to the floor.

"Little sir, quiet yourself!" The saint was sympathetically
distressed.

Abandoned in some oceanic desolation, I clutched his feet as the
sole raft of my rescue.

"Holy sir, thy intercession! Ask Divine Mother if I find any favor
in Her sight!"

This promise is one not easily bestowed; the master was constrained
to silence.

Beyond reach of doubt, I was convinced that Master Mahasaya was in
intimate converse with the Universal Mother. It was deep humiliation
to realize that my eyes were blind to Her who even at this moment