“I joined Master as he was walking toward his car. He cautioned the disciples to use special care in lifting gifts of chutney and India sweetmeats made by him and several disciples that he was taking to Ambassador Sen and Consul General Ahuja. Master was very joyous on the way, giving me instructions about the work of the SRF Center in Phoenix and discussing plans for its future. He told a few stories about his early years in this country: his first transcontinental lecture tour, in 1924 by automobile, when three young men accompanied him; his visit to inspiring Pikes Peak near Denver; his experiences with different makes of autos (‘I prefer a Ford to a Roll-Royce’).
“He was bubbling over with divine love. The vibrations of peace and bliss coming from him were overwhelming. He took my hand in his, and said:
‘If you all work together with love, harmony, kindness, and humility, the work will sweep the world.’ He was referring, of course, to the SRF teachings and of self-liberation through Kriya Yoga.
“Master told Cliff, who was driving, and me that we might have our breakfast in the Ambassador Hotel Coffee Shop while he kept his appointment with His Excellency. Giving us some money, he inquired, ‘Are you sure this is sufficient? I want you to eat enough.’ We assured him we had plenty of money for breakfast, but he insisted on giving us more.
“Master began a slow walk through the beautiful hotel, with Cliff and me helping him. Mr. Bhandari, one of His Excellency’s party from Washington met us haflway and led Master to the private breakfast room. The Ambassador and the Consul General were waiting courteously at the door, not wanting to enter the room until after Master had arrived.
After our own meal Cliff and I returned to the breakfast room, to find Master just coming out, with Mr. Bhandari at his side. We all stopped in front of a large display of the hotels anthuriums, the glossy flowers from Hawaii. Master smiled and remarked how beautiful they were. I said, ‘Sir, you are walking too much; may I please order a chair and push you?’ He shook his head, but I pleaded again. He looked at me with a piercing gaze and said, ‘Mind can do anything.’ Master and Mr. Bhandari carried on a lively discussion about India until we reached the car.
“We then drove out to the SRF Lake Shrine in Pacific Palisades, to see how the repair work was coming along after the recent damaging rains. It was Master’s first visit in six months to the Shrine. He greeted everyone, expressing pleasure at the work that was being done. We took him around the lake. ‘I want to see it all,’ he said, and his observant eyes didn’t miss a single detail along the way. We stopped often so that he could get a good look at the different plants, shrubs, and trees.
“We walked up the gangplank to the Mississippi houseboat. Master sat in the living room and talked at some length with the Lake Shrine disciples who were happily grouped around him. We had become engrossed in a discussion of the grave world situation when Master said, ‘It is all God’s play,’ and gave a talk on the cosmic delusion and how the Lord uses different actors on the stage of time to portray certain parts.
“Stanley announced that lunch was ready, so we left the houseboat. While walking Master continually commented on articles to be repaired or repainted, and about new things to be added to the grounds, including a fish pond. He told us to be sure it was protected from ‘souvenir-hunters’ so that the fish would not eventually end up as ‘fish-fry.’ We laughed, and Stanley assured him the fish would be well looked after.
“A moment later we were going down an incline and walked a little more rapidly than before. Two of us hurried Master forward. He said, ‘Be careful. Food you will always have, but me you will not always have with you.’
“We soon arrived at the windmill house for lunch. Master enjoyed it, and told us little stories about food, and that the proper-eatarian diet is best. ‘There are so many good meat substitues,’ he remarked.
“Afterward Master sat before the organ and played several of his chants and other Indian music. Over and over he sang the ancient Bengali chant for which Tagore wrote the words: ‘In my house with Thine own hands light the lamp of Thy love. . .Change my darkness to Thy light, change my darkness to Thy light.’ He and the disciples chanted this repeatedly, and our hearts were filled with rapture. A real devotee of God was singing to the Divine Mother, and we felt his love and devotion and the bliss flowing from his hallowed temple. He played the organ for at least an hour, perhaps longer. Perspiration was streaming down his face; his eyes were radiant with joy.
“We went outside by the lake’s edge, and Stanley called the ducks. Master threw bread and corn to them. Later he decided on the right spot on which to place one of the art treasures of SRF—a large reproduction in mother-of-pearl of Christ with his disciples at the Last Supper.
“Little did any of us realize, as we chatted about the best location for the picture, that at the windmill house we had just had the Last Supper that Master was to eat at an SRF retreat with his young men disciples.
“Master, Cliff, and I drove off about 4:45 p.m., having visited the Lake Shrine for nearly six hours. As soon as we entered the car, Master became inwardly withdrawn. He was grave and silent for the most part—the opposite of his morning mood.
“When we arrived at the driveway of the SRF headquarters, Master said, ‘Oh, are we here already? Let us go back and around. I want to get back and around. I want to get a good view of the building. I will direct you.’ Cliff drove down San Rafael Avenue to a spot where, across a canyon of shrubbery, the Mount Washington headquarters could be seen to good advantage, standing bold against the sky. The sun had nearly set. The building looked magnificent and very white. Master said, ‘The new paint job is wonderful. It needed it.’ He told me how the SRF students had done it themselves and saved tremendous expense. Then he fell into a reverie and mused, with a sigh, ‘It looks just like a castle.’ ‘It is our castle, Sir,’ Cliff said. Master smiled and replied, ‘Yes, a castle for men and women of God.’ Then he looked at the Mt. Washington Center for a long time in silence.
“We drove back to the headquarters, where a number of the monks, just finished with their period of exercise on the tennis court, were waiting to greet Master. He gave a wonderful talk on the spiritual path, and how to keep steadfast on it, even after he would depart. I became a little sad, thinking that some distant day his physical presence would be gone; but the tremendous zeal and dynamic enthusiasm that now emanated from him seemed reassuring. I had no inkling that he would be leaving the earth so soon. I realize now that he was preparing us for it. I did not then connect all his remarks as I did later, after he had gone.