and friends and avoided like the plague by anyone who wanted to keep his own name clean. Desperate in his misery, he contemplated suicide, and made all preparations. Only a few hours before the fixed time, a messenger came from Baba, to say X was wanted at once, at the shop where Baba was. That brought a wave of love in his miserable heart and he lied, 'I will come later.' The messenger would not go—said he had been given strict instructions to 'bring you along with me.' So X went along, thinking there was enough time, and how nice it would be to see his Friend before the end. As he neared the shop, Baba came out, and running towards him with open arms, embraced and kissed him, regardless of the people on the road and in the shop. X says, "Did I, who could not evoke love in my own mother, deserve such love! This love has filled the void of my heart which was only used to having lust, misery and deceit as its tenants . . . He only let me go with my promise to return on the morrow. I went home with tears of love and joy, all thoughts of suicide forgotten. I am now His devoted disciple, and He has shown me that true happiness is in 'giving,' in control and sacrifice of desires . . .with the alchemy of His love He has transformed me . . ..' "

"Talking of toys, I must tell you of my first experience with Beloved (only then I didn't recognize He had beautifully begun to chop off my spoilt little ego). As a child, I spent most of my holidays with Baba, and I have a vague memory of 'Manzil-e-Meem' when I was not quite 4. While there I asked Baba for a tricycle (Baba used to send Adi and myself many toys at times). Baba took me on His lap and promised me one. The woman in me wanted a more definite promise and Baba swore (vowed) 'by a hen' that He'd send it to me on my next birthday. As it didn't come, it was the first thing I reminded Him of when I saw Him next. Beloved was so contrite and kissed me, but I wouldn't be mollified. 'But you swore by a hen!' I told Him, surprised. It took Him only a moment to put all my doubts at rest, with His serious reply, 'I know, but what could I do, the hen died!' That completely satisfied me and I was so relieved Baba hadn't forgotten His promise,—the hen had died! I have witnessed those same beloved tactics since, only it must be more difficult for Him now, since unfortunately our minds are less pliable clay now than in the innocence of childhood. No wonder the Potter says: 'Except ye become as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom of God.'"