was perceptible to the faultless gaze of the saint. Shamelessly
gripping his feet, deaf to his gentle remonstrances, I besought
him again and again for his intervening grace.

"I will make your plea to the Beloved." The master's capitulation
came with a slow, compassionate smile.

What power in those few words, that my being should know release
from its stormy exile?

"Sir, remember your pledge! I shall return soon for Her message!"
Joyful anticipation rang in my voice that only a moment ago had
been sobbing in sorrow.

Descending the long stairway, I was overwhelmed by memories. This
house at 50 Amherst Street, now the residence of Master Mahasaya,
had once been my family home, scene of my mother's death. Here
my human heart had broken for the vanished mother; and here today
my spirit had been as though crucified by absence of the Divine
Mother. Hallowed walls, silent witness of my grievous hurts and
final healing!

My steps were eager as I returned to my Gurpar Road home. Seeking
the seclusion of my small attic, I remained in meditation until
ten o'clock. The darkness of the warm Indian night was suddenly
lit with a wondrous vision.

Haloed in splendor, the Divine Mother stood before me. Her face,
tenderly smiling, was beauty itself.