"Who will finance you?" As he
had affectionately borne the expenses of my education and whole
life, he doubtless hoped that his question would bring my project
to an embarrassing halt.
"The Lord will surely finance me." As I made this reply, I thought
of the similar one I had given long ago to my brother Ananta in
Agra. Without very much guile, I added, "Father, perhaps God will
put it into your mind to help me."
"No, never!" He glanced at me piteously.
I was astounded, therefore, when Father handed me, the following
day, a check made out for a large amount.
"I give you this money," he said, "not in my capacity as a father,
but as a faithful disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya. Go then to that far
Western land; spread there the creedless teachings of KRIYA YOGA."
I was immensely touched at the selfless spirit in which Father
had been able to quickly put aside his personal desires. The just
realization had come to him during the preceding night that no
ordinary desire for foreign travel was motivating my voyage.
"Perhaps we shall not meet again in this life." Father, who was
sixty-seven at this time, spoke sadly.
An intuitive conviction prompted me to reply, "Surely the Lord will
bring us together once more."
As I went about my preparations to leave Master and my native
land for the unknown shores of America, I experienced not a little
trepidation. I had heard many stories about the materialistic
Western atmosphere, one very different from the spiritual background
of India, pervaded with the centuried aura of saints.
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