talked our way out of his office, we encountered two small Indian children at the foot of the stairs. Some-how they had crawled down them and become lost. But even if they had known where they were, one child was too small to climb back. So Mr. Samtani, without interrupting either his conversation or stride, picked up the smaller child, hoisted him over his head, climbed the steps, and put him down gently at the top.
On July 24th, I wrote to Mani, Baba's sister, to report that 85,000 Universal Messages had been taken at the fair's halfway mark. She replied July 31st in her lovely way: “Of all the variety of colorful and magnificent pictures we have seen of the Expo, you can imagine how thrilled we were to see the little picture you enclosed in your letter (see photo) — like suddenly spotting a dear friend in a crowd. It has given form to our imagining of you dear ones going ... into the India Pavilion to tend to the heart of Expo ... It's thrilling to read all the contents and enclosures of your letters to me and dear Stella's to Adi. Now we begin to hear His Silence in so many ways, in so many places, as Baba said would happen as the time for His manifestation drew close ... and this is all but the beginning, the whisper. Adi is writing to Mr. Luthra a real nice letter of appreciation:"
Adi’s letter must have reached Mr. Luthra in early August for about then I met Mr. Luthra striding out of his office and, as soon as he saw me, a big smile crossed his face.
"People have complained to me about the leaflets," he said. They say we're giving out religious propaganda. "
"Oh?" I asked, as my heart sank. The hostesses had told me about this and because of it, had put away the Messages temporarily at least three or four times.
"Yes. They spoke to Mr. Dayal about it, too. But we just said in each case: 'Read the pamphlet. If you find something objectionable about it, tell us.' No one did." Mr. Luthra looked at me closely and started to laugh. I started to laugh too — with relief first ... then at the humor of this distinguished one-upmanship.
On the biting cold Thursday evening just before Expo closed, I put out Baba's last 2,000 Messages myself. Returning Sunday morning, October 29th — as did another half million Montrealers to bid Expo "adieu" — not one Universal Message was left. 175,000 of them (115,000 English and 60,000 French) had been taken over six months.
By the time Expo had ended, Ivy Duce had received about five follow-up enquiries, I had received nine, and Kitty wrote: ". . since May last the letters pour in for more information, books, etc. so Expo '67 must have something to do with