is in us all and stands to us as a pattern, a focal point and inspiration. To see him is to see all beauty and all imagined beauty. To know him is joy beyond measure. To work for him and do his bidding is to gain a fuller experience of his wisdom and power. The impossible becomes the possible and ways and means open up to fulfill his orders in interesting and unusual ways. These last few months have shown this to me so dearly that I wish on this Christmas Day to rededicate myself to Baba in love and faith and service. I did this instantly ten years ago, but now with fuller knowledge of his selfless work for humanity, I feel it is the greatest privilege any of us can have to serve him and help him in any little way."

Following are a few recollections of Meher Baba taken from Quentin Tod's diary of this period. He met Baba on this second visit to London and at this time was a very close and dear disciple. He has since passed on.

Quentin Tod's Impressions:

In August, Margaret Craske went down to East Challacombe for a second visit and Mabel and her sister Eileen, Philip Whitcombe and myself went down to Santa Margherita, Italy on a holiday. Margaret had cancelled her trip with us in order to go to East Challacombe as requested by Meredith. On our return, Margaret was even more enthusiastic than before about Meredith Starr and told us that Baba was definitely on his way from India for his first visit to the West.

Baba arrived in England, September 12th, and spent the first night at Herbert Davy's house in London. The next day he motored to East Challacombe where he spent a week and then returned to London.

The day after he came back an American, Milo Shattuck, whom I met at lunch with Margaret and Mabel, offered to take me down that afternoon to see him.

I felt most unworthy to meet Baba — utterly unprepared and rather shaken as if I was going to have a major operation.

We went upstairs to the top floor of the Davys' house and I was aware of a great many people passing to and fro — I remember seeing Chanji and Rustom but felt dazed and sat waiting. At last the moment came and I found myself in the same room. Baba was seated cross-legged on a bed near the window. There were several people in the room and one woman was sitting opposite him crying. I only vaguely noticed them and wished they were elsewhere — but I was so engrossed at looking at this wonderful man for the first time that they faded away.

What most impressed me was his rather wild air as of something untamed and his truly remarkable eyes.