In the summer of 1917 I spent my summer vacation with my
uncle, Mírzá Husayn Yazdí, in his house on Mt. Carmel, a memorable two months
for me. Every evening before sunset I had the bounty of being in the presence
of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. I would join the other believers gathered in front of the
Master’s house. The entrance had an iron gate and then a garden. He would come
out with a cheerful and warm greeting, welcome all, and take His seat on the
platform at the head of the wide stairs. The sun was going down, and it was
very quiet. Sometimes He sat in a relaxed attitude and didn’t speak at all.
Usually, however, He spoke. He talked in His commanding voice, looking straight
ahead, as if He were addressing posterity. He talked about Bahá’u’lláh, about
His Teachings, and about significant world events in the history of the Faith.
He told stories sprinkled with humour. Often, however, He talked of the
believers around the world and of their progress in spreading the Faith. Then
He would become wistful. For three years, while World War I raged, He had
little news from abroad. The isolation and constraint weighed heavily upon Him.
Now and then He would address individuals in the audience, ask them about their
families, their work, their problems; He would offer advice and help. Toward
the end, He would ask one of the believers to chant verses from the poems of
Bahá’u’lláh. When the chanting ended, the meeting was over. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá would
arise and enter the house. Dusk would have descended over Haifa. 
House of Abdu'l-Baha in Haifa as it appeared in
His days (The Baha'i World 1954-1963)
- Aziz Yazdi (‘Memories of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’, published in the online version of ‘The Baha’i World’; The Baha’i World Center)