Before nine o'clock in the
morning I was there, which meant; since I lived some distance from New York, an
early start indeed. Already the large reception room was well filled. Evidently
others also were conscious of a similar urge. I wondered if they too felt, as
I, a burning in the breast.
I remember as if it were yesterday the scene and my impressions. I did not want
to talk to anyone. In fact I would not. I withdrew to the window overlooking
Broadway and turned my back upon them all. Below me stretched the great city
but I saw it not. What was it all about? Why was I here? What did I expect from
the coming interview: indeed how did I know there was to be any interview at
all? I had no appointment. Plainly all those other folk had come expecting to
see and talk with Him. Why should I expect any attention from such an eminent
personage?
So I was somewhat withdrawn from the others when my attention was attracted by
a rustling throughout the room. A door was opening far across from me and a
group was emerging and 'Abdu'l-Baha appeared saying farewell. None had any eyes
save for Him. Again I had the impression of a unique dignity and courtesy and
love. The morning sunlight flooded the room to center on His robe. His fez was
slightly tilted and as I gazed, His hand, with a gesture, evidently characteristic,
raised and, touching, restored it to its proper place. His eyes met mine as my
fascinated glance was on Him. He smiled and, with a gesture which no word but
"lordly" can describe, He beckoned me. Startled gives no hint of my
sensations. Something incredible had happened. Why to me, a stranger unknown,
unheard of, should He raise that friendly hand? I glanced around. Surely it was
to someone else that gesture was addressed, those eyes were smiling! But there
was no one near and again I looked and again He beckoned and such understanding
love enveloped me that even at that distance and with a heart still cold a
thrill ran through me as if a breeze from a divine morning hadtouched my brow!
