Sonia’s Book continued
Chapter 1
Continued from Sonia’s Book
My Journal: April 18, 1992. Frickhofen.
We sleep for hours, then venture out for supper. That’s when we discover that all the restaurants and markets are also closed for Easter weekend. No lunch or supper this first day. At least breakfast is included with our room.
By Friday evening, the austerities of foreign travel don’t matter. We’re going to see Mother. A woman who has just driven in from Belgium gives us a ride.
There at Last
In Thalheim, we join a line of people already waiting at the door in the ell of Mother Meera’s stucco house at Oberdorf 4a. Voices mingle in French, British, several unknown tongues and one or two American accents. When people learn that we are first-time visitors, they move us to the front of the line. The door opens and we are let into a narrow hall where we leave coats and shoes. Then we move with the others into a large light room filled with plastic lawn chairs facing an ordinary living room chair set at floor level. I sit on a cushion as close as I can get to Mother Meera’s seat. This is why I came.
There were almost 200 people at Mother’s Thalheim home. Mother came in with no ceremony — small, young, dignified and powerful. She took her seat on a stuffed charcoal-gray chair with faint gray and pink flowers, edged with gray tassels. Two contemporary lamps threw light on the ceiling and on vases of flowers brought by devotees. I sat on a cushion on the floor six feet from her with my toes on the edge of her carpet. “Mother Meera, Mother Meera,” moved through my head. She looked intense, very focused. No smile. At times, I thought her very young, at times very mature.
A young Indian man was first to kneel before her. Then a large European man. Others followed in no particular order. Each one knelt before her, inclining the head toward her knees. She took each head in both hands with all her attention. When she let go, the person sat back on the heels and looked in her eyes. Mother looked back with complete focus. When she lowered her eyes, the person got up and was replaced by another. Each was treated absolutely the same.
When I had my minute with Mother, there was eternity and no time at all. No one else was there. I knelt in front of her as the others had done. She smelled good as she took my head gently in her hands. “Ma, open me.” When she released my head, I sat back and she looked in my eyes. I saw only her right eye, a beautiful, intense eye. I saw a cross there. I felt love from her, more love than I could ever have imagined. I managed to move back to my cushion. My back ached from my unaccustomed seat on the floor but my heart was at home. Silence filled the room.
After everyone had their turn, Mother sat in dignity for a few seconds, then walked out without a glance around. Simple and impressive.~
