been hastily laid out and there was confusion as we all tried to find our seats. We stood till Baba was seated; then Don Stevens welcomed Baba and Ruth White recited her poem, beginning:

There was not enough room for everyone and Baba gestured for the mandali to stand and give up their seats. Then He said to us "I am very happy to be here. I bless you all. I will leave shortly but you must stay and eat your dinner. Eat well."

We watched in some consternation as He left a few minutes later with the mandali. We dutifully continued with our dinner but the heart of the feast was gone. We felt that somehow we had failed to plan properly or lovingly enough for the Beloved's welcome that evening, but of course we knew that Baba had constantly to "be about His Father's business." Even the lovely Baba cake frosted with hearts did not lift my spirit. After dinner, my mother and a friend drove me to the very topmost hill looking down on the huge glittering expanse of Hollywood, Los Angeles and Beverly Hills, a modern Jerusalem, holding at its heart, unknown, the beloved Messiah.

AUGUST 1

Early in the morning we went over to the hotel and spent a few precious moments alone with Baba. He looked rested for the first time. He asked us, as usual, if we had slept well and ate well, and said He was kept busy with appointments and had no time to be with us as much as He liked. We said we felt the same way. He tossed each of us an enormous peach. A few moments later He called for the whole group, but many were missing at this early hour, breakfasting, sleeping or strolling. Baba gestured to us, crowded in the corridor outside His room, "I wanted to give you all a message but you're not all here. Those who are not here—may see me in 700 years!" Baba's eyes flashed.

There was a hurry and scurry to round up everyone. When Beryl appeared, Baba said "I thought you were dead!" Laughter released the tension. John Bass and Dr. Ben appeared, sheepish and guilty from an early