A LITTLE FLOWER

 
Mani recalled this lovely little story which took place in Meherazad.

Usually after breakfast Baba went across to Mandali Hall to be with His men. They carried Him over on a lift chair. He was allergic to cold air, when seated in the lift chair He would hold a scarf over His nose.

As many pilgrims know, in the centre of the garden in Meherazad there is an oval patch bordered with flowerbeds which Mehera would lovingly care for. On the morning of this story, Mani had gone down ahead to fetch some typing Baba had given her to do and was standing by the green bench under the tamarind tree facing the oval when Baba went by in the lift chair.

Mani stood watching as the men carried Baba across at a quick pace, and saw Him gesture clearly with His free hand, 'What a nice flower.' Mani was astonished at this, for there were only young tender seedlings in the flowerbed He had pointed to. So she went close to it, searching for her eyes for where the flower was. She could see nothing but a blanket of fresh green shoots.

She squatted down to peer at close quarters, but no flower. Then going down on her hands and knees, at last she spotted under a leaf the lone little flower which had not escaped Baba's glance, even when He was going by the oval at a brisk pace!

Mani stood there transfixed, realising that she had just witnessed in this little episode was His love and compassion for His own, however insignificant. And she said to herself, 'If He gives a simple little flower in His garden such personal attention, how can we ever think He would neglect those who love Him!'