Meher Baba, with his keen sense of humor, enjoyed calling our group on occasion by such appropriate names as "broken-down furniture," "hard nuts to crack," an "odd assortment of tools," and once, "priceless pearls." Yet, in Spain, Baba referred to his "odd assortment of tools," in such words as “all of you should be partners in my work," and, when he came to England to arrange for us to go to Nasik, India, said, "I want you with me to do much work and I want you to share my work." Wanted! What a blessed word from a Perfect Master.

More recently, however, Baba, for reasons of his own, has stressed that his work can and will be done even without helpers and without money. Still, Baba is stressing—stressing what?—simply our love. "Love me more and more and then you will find me," he says in a recent message. "The only thing which counts now is love. Will you love me as I want to be loved?" Not the life-taking love, but the life-giving love.

My first meeting with Meher Baba was on the platform of Victoria Station, London, on the occasion of Baba's first visit to the West in September, 1931. He stayed three days with my parents in Kensington, London, before proceeding to the retreat at East Challacombe, North Devonshire, prepared for him by one of his earlier disciples, Meredith Starr.

As Baba left the station, he motioned me to follow him into the taxi. Thereafter, at short intervals over a period of five years, Baba called me and others to follow him to Italy, to Spain, to France, to Switzerland and, finally to India.

But, was September, 1931, my first contact with Meher Baba? I think not. Six months before Baba arrived, I got ill and was ordered to take a rest from teaching. For no apparent reason, my brother gave me Romain Rolland's book about Vivekananda and his Master, Ramakrishna, to read.