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So I was somewhat withdrawn from the others when my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 had touched my brow!