AMONG MY MOST PRECIOUS RECOLLECTIONS

 
We stayed at the Villa Fiorenza, a small pension between Santa Margherita and Portofino, which we had to ourselves — apart from one English couple who were in the annex — and where we ate our meals on a picturesque veranda facing the sea. Every morning Baba came round our rooms to see that we were up and teased and embraced us.

Then most mornings, followed by Kaka with a large umbrella, Baba came down to the beach and sat on the rocks while some of the group went swimming. He told us that for spiritual reasons He would not go in the water Himself.

While we sat on the beach, many Italians attracted by this strange group would come and sit near us. We must have presented a queer picture, an Indian with long hair and flowing white robes followed by a group of men and Western women in colorful attire; but the Italians are a marvelous people, they never stared but took it as a most natural sight.

In the evenings, we listened to Hawaiian, Spanish, or Paul Robeson records; or we were called upon to give impromptu concerts or tell funny stories; but among my most precious recollections was when we just sat in silence with Baba on the terrace — no one saying a word — the silence broken only by the lapping waves.

One evening in particular, I remember following Him onto the terrace. The moon was shining straight onto His face and, as we sat around Him in silence, we could feel Him drawing us closer in love.

Chanji told us that few in India had been permitted this degree of intimacy, and Baba Himself told us, "Make the most of this — it won't come again — one day you won't get near me for the crowds!"