# Mother's Stories: Recollections of Abdu'l-Baha

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-18 — 1 clipping.*

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> Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: more stories by Newhall, Mother's Stories: Recollections of Abdu'l-Baha, bahai-library.com.
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> 
> Mother's Stories
> 
> MOTHER'S            STORIES
> 
> and
> 
> STORIES OF        ABDU'L-BAHA
> 
> as told by
> 
> MOTHER
> 
> Copyright (c) 1970, 1998 all rights reserved.
> 
> page 1
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Contents
> 
> Part One
> 
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Part one contents .................................................................................. 2
> Part two contents ................................................................................. 3
> Photo of Muriel Ives Barrow Newhall .................................................... 4
> Introduction ...................................................................................... 5
> O Thou help me .................................................................................. 6
> I am doing .......................................................................................... 7
> What really happens ............................................................................. 8
> Tea in Paris ....................................................................................... 9
> Pamphlets ........................................................................................ 10
> Teach, Teach, Teach ............................................................................11
> Interactive Guidance ........................................................................... 12
> Interactive Guidance II ........................................................................ 13
> Character development ........................................................................ 14
> Gift ................................................................................................. 16
> Service ............................................................................................. 17
> Marriage .......................................................................................... 20
> Wheel chair pioneer ........................................................................... 21
> To the Light .................................................................................... 22
> Unstated invitation ............................................................................ 23
> Interactive guidance III ....................................................................... 24
> If poverty ........................................................................................ 25
> Green Acre ...................................................................................... 26
> Deserving boots ............................................................................... 28
> May waits for Thomas ...................................................................... 29
> The meeting .................................................................................... 32
> Sketch of Abdu'l-Baha ........................................................................ 34
> 
> page 2
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Contents
> 
> Part Two
> 
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha
> as told by
> Mother
> 
> Introduction ............................................................................................ 36
> Repetition .............................................................................................. 37
> Golden rain ............................................................................................ 37
> Not yet known ........................................................................................ 37
> Translation ............................................................................................ 38
> Dedication ............................................................................................. 38
> At the zoo ............................................................................................. 38
> Questions not asked ................................................................................. 39
> Books .................................................................................................... 39
> Study, study, study .................................................................................. 39
> Sow the seeds ........................................................................................ 39
> A Book ................................................................................................. 40
> Obedience and trust .................................................................................. 40
> Charity .................................................................................................. 40
> Lover of truth ......................................................................................... 40
> Detachment ........................................................................................... 41
> In His footsteps ...................................................................................... 41
> 
> page 3
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Muriel Ives Barrow Newhall
> 
> page 4
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Introduction
> 
> These stories were recorded by my mother, Muriel Ives Barrow Newhall, in the late 60's. They are her
> personal recollections of events related, in most part, by those directly involved.
> 
> Mother met Abdu'l-Baha in 1912, when she was 15 years old. He told her that she would grow like a
> tree and have many branches. Years later she realized, as so often happens, the meaning of this prediction. It
> was twenty years before she declared her belief in Baha'u'llah, and she has observed many times 'it takes a tree
> 20 years to mature'. She had four children, fifteen grandchildren, and a couple of dozen great grand children.
> 
> In the early 30s Mother, who was divorced from her first husband, Theodore Obrig, married the
> Reverend Reginald G. Barrow. The wedding ceremony was performed by her father Howard Colby Ives. It is
> family history that they spent their wedding night on a park bench, as they could not obtain a room in a hotel
> in Boston. Bishop Barrow, was a man of color, who was born in the West Indies.
> 
> Rev. Barrow was a Bishop of the African Orthodox Church. He had been ordained an Anglican Priest
> on Barbados, and when he learned, upon coming to the United States, that the Episcopal Church was segregated
> , he ultimately decided to work with the African Orthodox Church. The African Orthodox Church had similar
> origins to the Greek and Russian Orthodox churches. Dad retired as the Archbishop of the African Orthodox
> Church for North America.
> 
> In addition to raising her children, mother was an active Baha'i. She served on assemblies, lived in a
> cooperative house with other believers, was a homefront pioneer in Santa Fe, New Mexico, pioneered to Madera
> for several years; and practiced her faith in her daily life.
> 
> As you will see, these stories are, in most cases, her recollections of events which the participants
> related to her. There are slightly different versions of some of them published elsewhere. We are not offering
> these as alternatives to other versions, but as what one person, Mother, remembered in her early seventies.
> 
> What we feel is important in these stories is the message and feelings they bring, not the historical
> facts. We will leave the facts to researchers and historians. We offer the images and emotions which shaped the
> path for one Friend of God and which may point out a direction to others.
> 
> While we have changed the spelling of some names to conform to the current Baha'i Dictionary, we
> have not edited the stories, as we are presenting Mother's Stories for you to savor as she wrote them.
> 
> Reginald Grand Barrow Jr.            Shawnigan Lake, BC        March 1998
> 
> page 5
> Mother's Stories
> 
> O Thou help me...
> 
> It was in 1912 that Dr. Ali Kuli Khan - preparing for the visit of Abdu'l-Baha to Washington - began
> to consider the questions he would ask Him upon His arrival. And, thinking it over, Dr. Khan realized that the
> one thing he wanted most to know was some prayer he might utter quickly and from deep within his heart,
> when the moment came when, as the representative of his country (then Persia) in Washington he must make
> some instant diplomatic decision. When these moments came, as they did frequently - Dr. Khan felt that while
> he always sincerely did his best, his wisdom was very limited and finite. If only he might have a prayer that
> would draw to him a greater wisdom Ah, if he only might have such a prayer.
> 
> So the day came when Abdu'l-Baha was to arrive and Dr. Khan, accompanied by the Washington
> believers, drove to the station to meet Him. The greeting was warm and deeply moving, and Khan's heart was
> still filled with this one question he wanted most to ask the Master. And they were perhaps halfway back,
> driving up Pennsylvania Avenue, when Abdu'l-Baha suddenly told Khan this story:
> 
> It had happened when Baha’u’llah had been gone from Baghdad for some two years. At that time no
> one knew where He was and all hearts were sick with the fear that they never would see Him again. At this
> time Abdu'l- Baha was a small boy, and the continued absence of His Beloved Father had become unendurable.
> So, one night, all night long, the little boy (whom, even then, Baha'u'llah referred to as The Master) paced
> restlessly up and down saying, shouting, beseeching, Ya Allah el Mustaghas! Ya Allah el Mustaghas! all night
> long. And in the morning, when dawn was breaking, a messenger came to the door to say that a stranger was at
> the city gate and had sent word to the Family that He wished them to bring to Him fresh raiment and water to
> bathe in... So Abdu'l-Baha knew His beloved Father had returned.
> 
> And Dr. Khan knew the cry that he, too, might utter in his moments of need Ya Allah el
> Mustaghas (which I am told means Oh, Thou help me in my extremity! ).
> 
> This was told me by Ali Kuli Khan
> at Green-Acre in 1933 MIBN
> 
> page 6
> Mother's Stories
> 
> I am doing ...
> 
> In the early days ( 1901 to '05), Abdu'l-Baha sent to the United States the beloved and most radiant
> Abu'l-Fadl. The purpose was to travel and teach and Ali Kuli Khan was asked to accompany Abu'l-Fadl as
> interpreter. This was arranged and the two gentlemen started off. The trip was a wonderful success. It was during
> the period when teachers (Hindu, Zoroastrian or Buddhist) were greeted eagerly all over the country and these
> Baha'i teachers. shared the wave of popularity., It was in one of the middle western cities that this experience
> occurred.
> 
> The local Opera House had been rented for Abu'l-Fadl's talks and it was packed. Probably more than a
> thousand people had come. And, before this crowd Abu'l-Fadl rose to speak. For a moment, he stood there, his
> eyes roving over all the lifted, waiting faces, and suddenly he thought 'This trip is proving very successful! I
> am doing very well, this is a cause for great pride and satisfaction and when I return to Acca the Master will be
> well pleased with me. Truly I am doing well.' And, with this thought, the mind of Abu'l-Fadl went completely
> blank. He did not know who he was or why he was standing on this platform with all these people looking at
> him or what he was supposed to say. Then, instantly he realized what had happened. He had taken it upon
> himself to feel that it was HE who had accomplished this success; it was HIS words that would reach the hearts;
> it was HE - HE - HE - who had been proud. And, as he realized this he turned, in abject shame, to Baha’u’llah,
> imploring His forgiveness and begging Him to fill his heart once more with His Light to move his lips again
> with His Word. And immediately Abu'l-Fadl's prayer was answered, and the talk went forward.
> 
> Later, Abu'l-Fadl asked Dr. Khan how long it had been that he stood there tongue-tied and blank - for it
> had seemed to Abu'l-Fadl that he must have disgraced himself before that great audience. But Khan assured him
> that it had been no time at all that there had been no break in the discourse.
> 
> But it is to be noted that - many years afterward - Abdu'l-Baha particularly praised Abu'l-Fadl
> for being one of the very rare souls who never used the pronouns 'I' or 'me' or 'mine'.
> 
> This was told to me by Ali Kuli Khan
> in New York City c. 1934
> 
> page 7
> Mother's Stories
> 
> What really happens...
> 
> It was at the end of this same teaching trip that, one day, Dr. Khan reminded Abu'l-Fadl that, day after
> day, he had offered service to the best of his ability and, in view of this, would Abu'l-Fadl answer just one
> question: What really happened to the soul after death? Abu'l-Fadl looked at Khan very thoughtfully - and
> changed the subject.
> 
> A few days later, as they were nearing Washington, Dr. Khan repeated his question - "Please tell me -
> what does happen to the soul after death?" Abu'l-Fadl glanced at Khan and changed the subject.
> 
> Finally they reached Washington and the day before Abu'l-Fadl was to return to Acca. Dr. Khan asked
> the question for the third time. Abu'l-Fadl smiled. and went away.
> 
> Two or three years went by and one day Khan was sitting on a beach, looking at the sea. On the
> horizon was a ship, and as first the hull and then the sails slipped out of sight - suddenly, gloriously, Khan
> knew what happened to the soul after death. For, to those on board that ship nothing had happened - they were
> still on their familiar ship sailing the same sea.
> 
> So, some time later when Ali Kuli Khan met Abu'l-Fadl in Acca he told him of this experience and
> added - ""Why was it you refused, when I first asked you, to answer my question? Abu'l-Fadl said, lovingly,
> "If, my dear friend, you would have been able to understand my answer, you would never have asked the
> question."
> 
> Told to me by Ali Kuli Khan
> in New York City c. 1934
> 
> page 8
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Tea in Paris...
> 
> In the very early days Loulie Mathews came into the Faith while Abdu'l-Baha was yet imprisoned in
> Acca. She came in very quickly immediately, really, upon hearing of it, and she came in aflame with
> enthusiasm. She had been told that Abdu'l-Baha had expressed the wish that the Faith might be growing more
> rapidly in Paris, so, to Paris Loulie went. She made speedy and elaborate preparations for this expedition and
> when she had installed herself in a luxurious suite, she made further preparations, buying herself elaborate tea
> gowns that floated elegantly and had long fringe that swung as she moved. She also furnished herself with a
> silver tea service and many delicate cups and saucers. Then, she considered that she was prepared to teach the
> Faith she loved so well - and she sent out many invitations to tea.
> 
> Several weeks went by. Loulie continued to give her teas, but her success was not marked. Guests
> came, chattered, listened a moment, nibbled her delicious cakes, drank the delicate tea, and left. Then, one
> afternoon a man came, robed in soft gray with a turban on his head and he introduced himself by saying that he
> had come from Abdu'l-Baha. So Loulie welcomed him warmly and gave him tea. But, as he reached out to
> accept the cup, his sleeve fell back and exposed deeply bitten scars on his wrists. Loulie gasped, "Oh! You have
> been hurt."   The man smiled radiantly, "But these are the scars from the chains put upon me when I was in
> prison with my Lord," "Oh", said Loulie glancing at her own delicate wrists, "How you must have suffered!"
> The man looked at her, astonishment and a kind of radiant amusement in his eyes. "Suffer? When I was in
> prison with my Lord? Oh, but every moment was a blissful joy."
> 
> After the man had gone, Loulie meditated long and gravely upon these things he had said and she
> concluded - looking at her chiffon tea gowns and the silver service - that, apparently, there were things about
> this Faith of which she knew little. So she wrote to Abdu'l-Baha telling him this and adding that she was going
> to return to New York and study and learn. if she could, some of the things she evidently needed to learn. This
> letter to Abdu'l-Baha was put, with other out-going mail, on a small table to be picked up. And while it was
> still lying there, waiting to go out, a Tablet came from Abdu'l-Baha in which He said, He was most happy to
> know of her decision to go home and study, but she must not be discouraged, for the time would come when
> she would be a 'lion roaring through the Cause of God.' ...and of course that time did come and she was that
> lion.
> 
> Told to many of us by Loulie Mathews
> at Temerity c. 1946.
> 
> page 9
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Pamphlets...
> 
> In the days when steamships, such as the Mauritania and Franconia, made round-the-world trips,
> Loulie went several times for the sole purpose of stopping at each port-of-call to make whatever contacts she
> might to proclaim the coming of Baha'u'llah. The Captains of these ships always proved most cooperative,
> making every possible effort to be of assistance. So one time when the ship was approaching Manila he came
> to her very disturbed. It seemed that because of various delays the stop at Manila would be very much shortened.
> In fact, they would dock there only for an hour.
> 
> Loulie, who had planned for at least a day or two, at once began to pray for guidance. What, in her
> precious hour, could she do that would reach some hungry seeking soul in this city? Finally, when the ship
> docked, Loulie rushed to a library but when she asked permission to place books on the shelves she was
> refused. There was no place in that library for a new and strange religion. So, in despair - time was passing so
> swiftly - she begged that she might go into the shelves and tuck a few pamphlets here and there. This was,
> reluctantly, granted her - so back she went to tuck her pamphlets.
> 
> Time passed and Loulie returned to New York. Then months later came a letter from Manila her
> parnphlets had been discovered; the man who found them had interested friends and where could he get more
> literature? Loulie, delighted, sent him more - and more. Then came the war and these new believers were
> scattered and, Loulie feared, lost. But no - when Peace came, they found each other, they got in touch with
> Loulie again and, once more the Baha'i Community of Manila was thriving. All because Loulie had tucked
> pamphlets in a library during one precious hour of pioneering.
> 
> Told to us at Temerity
> by Loulie Mathews c. 1946
> 
> page 10
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Teach, Teach, Teach...
> 
> Dear Elizabeth Cheney tiny, plump, copper haired was one of the first to answer the call to pioneer
> in South America. Dedicated and radiant, she went forth to plant the standard of Baha'u'llah, and from the first
> she was beset by difficulties. Everything in the world seemed to happen to her. She was ill, funds she had
> counted on failed to materialize, the various methods of transportation that were scheduled were either detoured
> or failed entirely - but. nothing daunted her. With determination and great courage, she continued to press on.
> Finally, she reached the last leg of her journey - a river boat that was to take her to her destination. With relief
> and joy, she boarded the boat, only to be awakened close to midnight - the boat had struck submerged rocks and
> was sinking. Elizabeth had only time to get out of her stateroom, run on deck and, with the water rising nearly
> to her waist, plunge over the rail and into the river. It was pitch dark, moon less, and no stars. The water was
> cold. Elizabeth floundered, went under, rose, prayer on her lips and in her heart - and grasped a log that was
> floating. A moment later she realized she was not alone grasping the log - another woman spoke to her out of
> the darkness. And there, with muddy river water smacking against her face, thick darkness pressing around her,
> the wrecked boat sinking lower and lower and the cries of the drowning echoing around her, Elizabeth gave the
> Message that she had come pioneering to give - and at the other end of the log her first contact listened.
> 
> Told to me by Elizabeth Cheney
> during the 1944 Convention at the Temple in Wilmette.
> 
> page 11
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Interactive Guidance...
> 
> When Elizabeth Cheney finally reached the end of her journey, further disaster awaited her. She had
> been given letters of introduction to various people political leaders, editors, and so on - who, it was hoped,
> might be of assistance to her. But, during the course of this delayed journey, there had been a revolution - and
> all of the men to whom Elizabeth carried her letters were either in prison or in exile or hiding. She met with
> nothing but shrugs and smiles and closed lips. No doors were open to her; she was blocked at every turn. So,
> once again, she retired to pray and to meditate.
> 
> Then, knowing that prayer must be followed by action, she went out to walk the streets, praying as
> she walked for guidance. Her steps were slow and hesitant in order that, when guidance came, she might not be
> distracted by her own haste. At last - still with no answer to her prayers that might guide her - she found herself
> away from the heart of the city and in a broad avenue lined with spacious lawns and gardens surrounding
> beautiful homes. Here her steps slowed and she became aware of her own sharpened attention as if the time had
> come for her to listen carefully. And finally her steps stopped completely. There was no further urge to go on.
> 
> She stood quite still and looked around her. She was standing beside a tall wrought-iron fence, and
> beyond the fence, beyond a low hedge, there was a man, kneeling beside a bed of flowers. Elizabeth - not
> knowing what else to do - stood quietly and watched him. She saw him start, as he realized he was being
> watched, then he stood up, dusted his knees and walked toward her. And in her halting Spanish Elizabeth heard
> herself mentioning the name of one of the men to whom she'd been given a letter. The man showed great
> surprise, but Elizabeth went on talking, telling him why she had come - giving him the Message. Finally,
> bowing and smiting he left her - and Elizabeth waited. In a few moments the man returned to open the gates
> and usher her into the house, where the man to whom her letter was addressed was in careful hiding and was
> waiting to receive her. This was the turning point for Elizabeth - from then on her way was easier and her
> teaching successful.
> 
> Told to me by Elizabeth Cheney
> during the 1944 Convention at Wilmette.
> 
> page 12
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Interactive Guidance II
> 
> Many years ago, Mable Rice-Wray Ives lived in Baltimore. It was in the far away days of streetcars,
> and in order to reach the down-town shopping district, Mable had to ride the streetcar for a long way from the
> residential part of the city where she lived. Part of this journey was down a very long hill that, treeless and drab,
> was lined with small shops and poor houses.
> 
> For years, as a growing girl, Mable had been taking this trip and then, one Spring, she began to be
> aware of a strange impulse to get off the trolley car when it was half way down the long hill. This was, of
> course, ridiculous. Why would she want to get off the car? There were no cross-streets; she knew no one in the
> neighborhood, why would she get off and what would she do if she did get off? So - trip after trip she reasoned
> with herself, talking herself out of it and feeling really very foolish. The feeling persisted - she should stop the
> car half way down the hill and get off. Finally, after this had been going on for many weeks, she lost patience.
> All right - she would stop the car and get off! So, the next time she had occasion to go shopping she did just
> that. And, as she stood on the curb watching the trolley car slide down the rest of the hill out of sight, she felt
> very silly. So now what she supposed to do? She turned from the curb and found herself facing a small shop
> that sold newspapers and magazines and stationary with, maybe, penny candy. Mable, not knowing what else to
> do, went over to the shop and walked in.
> 
> Behind the counter, there was an older woman with a gentle face and beautiful eyes. She asked Mable if
> she might help her. Mable said, helplessly, "I don't know. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I came
> for" - and then she found herself telling the woman all about the curious experience she'd had for so long as she
> came down the hill on a trolley car. When Mable had finished the woman smiled "I can tell you what you came
> for," she said. "Come into my sitting room with me, and I'll tell you the whole wonderful story." And that
> was how Mable Ives received the first word she'd ever heard of the wonderful Cause to which, for so many years
> and with such selfless courage, she gave her life.
> 
> Told to me by Mable at
> Green Acre, Summer, 1933.
> 
> page 13
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Character development...
> 
> Mable Ives, after she married Howard Colby Ives (my father) became known to many who loved her as
> Rizwanea. For very many years, after they were married, my father and Rizwanea traveled and taught the Faith.
> It was their entire life. They traveled through the New England states, through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois,
> New York and many many more - always teaching, always leaving an established Assembly behind them. It
> was a gypsy life. It meant that never once, during all the years, did they realty have a home; no place where they
> might be surrounded by their own things, where they might put down roots. Always they lived surrounded by
> strange and alien furniture, by the bare wall and arid atmosphere of barren hotels, boarding houses, and
> cubbyholes where they might sleep while, during their waking hours, they earned their living and taught their
> beloved Faith.
> 
> At last, after many years, with her health failing, Rizwanea felt she could endure no more. She had
> come to the end. She must have a home. She needed it with every atom of her being - needed it as a bird needs
> to make a nest in the springtime or as anyone, weary and spent, needs to rest in the sun. At this time they - she
> and my father were living in a particularly difficult situation. It was a furnished room and the landlady was
> constantly complaining of everything they did. They used too many lights, they took too many showers using
> up too much water, and the clacking of Father's typewriter was driving her crazy. So, one morning, Rizwanea
> told Father how she felt: She had come to the end; she could endure no more; she was unable to go one step
> farther. They had a long period of consultation, and at the end, Father told her that, of course, he would do as
> she wished, but would she, in turn, do one thing for him? Would she wait just one more day before making a
> truly final decision - and would she spend this day in prayer? She agreed. So after Father had left her to go out
> and attend to his business details, she kept her promise. She began to pray. And as she prayed, it came to her
> just what, in its depth and beauty, submission, detachment, and servitude really meant. And it came to her that
> submission - true and complete submission to the Will of God - was the first basic step. So she began to pray
> for submission - she prayed and prayed, and finally, submission came to her - but with it came the realization
> that submission was not enough.
> 
> Well, then, what was enough? What should she pray for now? And she remembered that Baha'u'llah had
> written that we must be grateful for the circumstances to which we were submitting. Grateful? Grateful for this
> horrid little room? Grateful for the beastly, complaining landlady?
> 
> Well, all right - if Baha'u'llah said so she, Rizwanea, would be grateful. But it wasn't easy. She was
> pacing the room, thinking, praying, fighting and now she went to the window to stare out into the street.
> 'Teach me to be grateful! Teach me to be submissive! I will be grateful! I will be submissive! She clenched
> her small fists. She fought and she suffered. And, finally, the first warm touch and then the warmer flow of
> submissive gratitude surged over her. But, the next moment, she realized that even this was not enough. Not
> 
> page 14
> Mother's Stories
> 
> enough? When she'd fought so hard and she was so tired. What then was left? What should she pray for next?
> 
> And it came to her that now she must pray for love. love for her nerve-wracking circumstances; love
> for her harsh landlady; love for the whole situation that had led to the crisis - the blessed crisis that had forced
> her to learn this lesson. So, now, Rizwanea prayed that she might love that she might be filled with love that
> she might be able to pour out this love.
> 
> And her prayers were answered. When Father returned to her, it was to meet a radiant woman - a
> woman filled with the glory of complete submission to the Will of God - a woman rich with the glory of
> gratitude for tests - a woman overflowing with the clear crystal waters of the love of God.
> 
> And, for many years more, she poured out these waters for the glory of the Cause she loved so well.
> 
> Told to me by both Rizwanea
> and Howard Colby Ives c. 1936
> 
> page 15
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Gift...
> 
> Elizabeth Greenleaf was a tall, aristocratic and very lovely lady who, for very many summers, occupied
> the cottage at Green Acre that was known as the tea house. It was in the living room of this cottage that she
> told this story. It seems that for a great many years she had longed for a white Baha’i ring-stone. She had never
> mentioned this to anyone nor had she mentioned it in her prayers, since it would not have occurred to her to
> pray for anything so material as a ring stone, but the wish had been in her heart always. One day, she had
> occasion to open an old trunk in her attic that had, for a long time, been closed and locked. And there, lying on
> the very top - the first thing to catch her eye as she lifted the lid, was her white ring stone. She had no idea how
> it had gotten there - she had never seen it before nor, upon inquiry, had anyone else, but she had it set and wore
> it on her slim finger all the rest of her life.
> 
> Told to me by Elizabeth Greenleaf
> Summer c. 1933
> 
> page 16
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Service...
> 
> There are many stories about beloved Grace Robarts Ober who, for so very many years, dedicated every
> moment of her life to the service of our glorious Cause. And this experience, she felt, was the 'first small step' -
> to use her words, that set her feet on the path.
> 
> Grace had been introduced to the Cause by that early dedicated soul, Lua Getzinger, and Grace had, at
> once, recognized Baha'u'llah and become a Baha'i. Not long afterward, Lua came to Grace and told her that very
> soon Abdu'l-Baha was to arrive in New York and she, Lua, had been asked by Him to go to Chicago and prepare
> a place there in which he might stay when he arrived in that city. Would Grace like to go to Chicago with Lua
> and help with this preparation? Of course Grace would! So, together, they went to Chicago from Los Angeles,
> found a suitable apartment, prepared it and, eventually, Abdu'l-Baha came to live in it.
> When His stay in Chicago was nearly over, suddenly one morning Grace realized what it would mean to go
> back to the dead stuffiness of her former life and leave this clear and radiant glory in which she'd been living
> while she helped Lua keep house for the Master. So she went to Abdu'l-Baha and begged that, when he returned
> to New York, she might help with that household too, as she had been privileged to do in Chicago. Abdu'l-Baha
> looked at her very searchingly and said, "Greece (His loving nickname for Grace) Greece, are you SURE you
> wish to serve ME?" Grace said, with great enthusiasm, "Oh, YES! More than anything else in the world!"
> Abdu'l-Baha made no answer but walked away. The next morning this scene was repeated. On the third morning,
> Grace, frantic at the realization that this was the last morning before He was leaving to go farther West, went to
> Him a third time - and this time He became very stern. Are you VERY SURE you wish to SERVE ME? Grace
> was startled at the sternness but she didn't waver. "YES I am VERY SURE." So then he nodded. "Very well
> go, settle up your affairs, and we will meet in New York." Jubilant and radiant, Grace settled up her 'affairs' -
> which consisted of subletting a cottage she had taken at Greenacre for the summer and doing a few other things.
> Then, with wings on her feet, she went to New York. Lua was already there and together they prepared for
> Abdu'l-Baha's return. The day came. Many Baha'is had gone to meet Him, though Lua and Grace had remained at
> the house to welcome Him. The door opened, He came in. He welcomed Lua warmly, glanced at Grace as at a
> complete stranger, and turned away. Grace was appalled, shocked. Hadn't He recognized her? Had He forgotten
> her? Had she misunderstood the permission to come to New York? Or had she displeased Him and was this
> punishment?
> 
> Whatever it was, it continued with no let-up. During all the days that followed Abdu'l-Baha never
> showed by word or glance that He recognized her in any way - except to put her to work. Whenever she relaxed
> at all throughout any day, word would come at once, through Lua, setting her to work harder at some new task.
> She worked in that household until long after midnight - cleaning, cooking, scrubbing, and then she would rise
> at five in the morning to begin all over again. She worked as she had never worked before in all her life and
> Abdu'l-Baha ignored her completely. If they ever chanced to meet he would draw aside His robe for her to pass
> 
> page 17
> Mother's Stories
> 
> and his glance would go through her as if she were not there.
> 
> At last came the day when the movies of Abdu'l-Baha were to be taken over in Brooklyn at the home
> of Howard MacNutt. And Grace thought, wearily, "at least I will be included in THIS since EVERYONE
> in the household is to go." But, an hour before the several carloads of people were scheduled to leave, Lua
> came to Grace to say that Abdu'l-Baha felt that someone should remain at the house to welcome two ladies who
> were expected that morning, and Grace was to be the one to stay behind. So when the cars left - Grace stood at
> the top of the flight of brownstone steps and watched them all roll away. Then, she turned and went into the
> empty house. For a moment she stood there, fighting the feeling of desolation and abandonment and loneliness,
> and then she thought of the white roses that had been delivered that morning, as they were daily, for Abdu'l-
> Baha's room. The one bright spot in these dreadful days for Grace had been that she was the one to arrange these
> roses each morning. So, with the long florists' box in her arms, she climbed up to Abdu'l-Baha's room at the
> top of the house, where He had wished to be. She reached the top of the third flight - and found the door not
> only closed, but locked against her. And always before it had stood wide open! This, for Grace, was the last
> straw. Overwhelmed by all the hurt and bewilderment of all these days, she sank down on the floor and wept
> with the fallen roses scattered around her. At last, the sobs faded, her tears spent themselves, and, exhausted, she
> gathered up the roses and went back downstairs.
> 
> The expected ladies had not arrived, nor did they ever arrive. But Grace - it was now past noon - was
> hungry. So, she went down to the kitchen to get something to eat. And in that house that fed, each day, so
> many dozens of people, there was nothing to eat but one egg and a small piece of leftover bread in Abdu'l-Baha's
> bread-box. (this bread was especially baked for Him by a Persian believer who had begged to come on this
> journey just so he might cook Abdu'l-Baha's food). So Grace boiled her one egg and put her small portion of
> bread on a plate. Putting the egg in an egg cup, she chipped the shell - and the egg, as bad as an egg can get,
> exploded in her face. She cleaned up the mess and returned to her bit of leftover bread. And, as she crumbled the
> bread, eating it crumb by crumb she realized, suddenly, exactly what she was doing - she was, blessedly, eating
> the crumbs of the bread of life from Abdu'l-Baha's table. She began to eat even more slowly as the spirit of
> prayer came to possess her.
> 
> Not long after this the household returned from Brooklyn - and that evening Lua came to Grace and
> said, "The Master has asked me to tell you that He knows you wept." And this was the first time it had
> occurred to Grace that all this dreadful experience might have a reason, a pattern. And - if this were true she
> must find out what the reason could be. So she went up to her room to pray about it. To pray for illumination
> and wisdom and the selflessness to understand. And as she prayed she heard a small voice saying 'Are you as
> happy scrubbing the garbage pails as you are arranging the roses?' And she suddenly realized what the spirit of
> true service was. It was to rise to selfless joy in offering the service, no matter what form that service might
> take.
> 
> page 18
> Mother's Stories
> 
> And as this truth swept over her, suffusing her, illuminating her, the door opened, and Abdu'l-Baha
> walked into the room. His arms were outstretched; His dear face was glorified. "Welcome!" He cried to Grace,
> "Welcome to the Kingdom!" And he held her close, embracing her deeply. And never did He withdraw Himself
> from her again.
> 
> Told to me by Grace Robarts Ober at Green Acre c. 1933
> Grace Ober is the aunt of Hand of the Cause of God John Robarts.
> 
> page 19
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Marriage...
> 
> It was not long after this that Lua came to Grace and told her that it was the wish of Abdu'l-Baha that
> she marry Harlan Ober. Grace was shocked. 'Why I don't really know that man! I've only met him a few times
> and that very casually. Besides - I'm almost engaged to someone else. He's asked me and I'm I'm making up my
> mind. How could I think of marrying Harlan Ober? Lua smiled, "I'm only repeating Abdu'l-Baha's request,"
> she said gently. So Grace quickly put the idea out of her mind. The next morning Lua came the second time to
> deliver the same message. Again Grace dismissed it all as being utterly fantastic. The third morning when Lua
> came she added her own remarks to the message. "You'd better really consider this, Grace Abdu'l-Baha does not
> make suggestions lightly." Grace, this time, realized how serious this was. 'But what does He want me to do?
> Write to Harlan Ober, whom I scarcely know - and propose to him? How could I? Oh, Lua I do want to be
> obedient but how on earth can I? Lua hugged her and patted her consolingly. "Ill do it," she said. "I know
> Harlan very well - it was through me he came into the Faith. I can do this easily." So Lua wrote to Harlan -
> and Harlan, radiant at the thought that he was obeying a suggestion of his beloved Master, took the next train to
> New York from Boston where he lived. He came at once to see Grace and together they went walking through
> Central Park where he proposed and Grace, still dazed and uncertain, accepted - because it was the will of
> Abdu'l-Baha.
> 
> The next morning they were called into Abdu'l-Baha's bedroom. And. Abdu'l-Baha was there, with one
> or two others, waiting to perform the marriage ceremony. Grace remembered, afterward, entering the room. She
> remembered the look of warm love on Abdu'l-Baha's face; she remembered the bands of sunlight on the floor and
> the bowls of roses on the tables and the next thing she was aware of was lying on a couch with Harlan bending
> above her asking if she felt better. She then discovered that the marriage had been performed - a marriage that,
> with no faltering, she had gone through with Harlan at her side then, when it was over, she had swayed a little
> and they had suggested she lie down. Abdu'l-Baha, smiling and serene, was watching her with great love
> knowing perfectly well how overcome with the spiritual force of these great moments she had been and
> knowing that the whole experience only proved her great spiritual susceptibility and capacity.
> 
> So were Grace Robarts and Harlan Ober married by Abdu'l-Baha. Later that same day they were married
> again by the laws of New York when Howard Colby Ives performed the legal ceremony.
> This was told to me by Grace Ober
> at Green Acre c. 1933
> 
> page 20
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Wheel chair Pioneer...
> 
> Five years after Grace told me these stories she went on an extensive teaching trip through the nearsouthern states. For three of these five years she had been very ill - most of the time very close to the Open
> Door. Finally, when she was beginning to convalesce, she was sent, by a generous and devoted sister-Baha'i, to
> a large convalescent home. This was at the time of our beloved Guardian's first call for pioneers to South
> America - a call that Grace, until this time, had been too ill to comprehend. But now she did comprehend, and
> all the way to the convalescent home she prayed from the depths of her hungry soul that she might, in some
> way, be able to respond to the Guardian's call.
> She arrived at the home and discovered that, that very evening, a masquerade was planned to celebrate
> Valentine's Day. Grace at once began to plan a costume for herself. She was very ingenious and clever about
> such things, and she was delighted that, so soon, she might have an opportunity of meeting her fellow guests -
> and maybe giving the Message- who knew? Eagerly she began to dress. She was powdering her nose in the
> bathroom when she fell. Whether she slipped or whether she fainted she herself was not sure. But when they
> found her she was lying unconscious - and unable to walk. She was put to bed and there was no party for her
> that night. And the next day when she finally went down stairs to meet people she met them from a wheel
> chair. And the people she met were from Chile and Argentina and Peru and Brazil! All the countries she had so
> longed to pioneer in - all the countries her beloved Guardian had said should be given the Message. So Grace
> being Grace, saw the beautiful joke that had been played on her - and she began to laugh. And all the people
> said, "Why, Mrs. Ober, how can you laugh when this dreadful thing has happened to you?" And Grace said,
> "Because I am a Baha’i do you know what that means?" Of course they didn't so she told them. And from her
> wheel-chair she did her pioneering in South America and these people from Chile and Argentina and Peru and
> Brazil, took the Message home with them together with all the literature Grace gave them.
> 
> Told to my by Grace Ober at
> the Kinney home in New York City, Winter 1937
> 
> page 21
> Mother's Stories
> 
> To The LIGHT. . .
> 
> It was a short time after Grace told me this story that she went on the teaching trip through the nearsouthern states that I mentioned above. The teaching trip ended in time for her to reach Wilmette and attend the
> Convention in the spring of 1938. It was a very radiant Convention and the report Grace gave of her teaching
> trip was one of the high points of it because Grace herself was so radiant and filled with the glory of the great
> privilege of teaching. She stood there, before the crowded hall in the foundation of the temple, filled with the
> great glory that shone from her and, closing her report, she uttered a tremendous clarion call for pioneers and for
> teachers. Then she walked down to resume her seat amongst the delegates. But on her way she paused beside
> Harlan, who had just been reelected to our National Spiritual Assembly. "I want to congratulate you now" she
> whispered, "I may not have time later", They smiled at each other with the perfect understanding that had
> always existed between them. Then Grace slipped into her own seat. As she sat down her head drooped slightly
> and those glancing at her assumed she was lost in prayer. But when she made no movement for many moments
> someone touched her someone realized something was wrong Edris Rice-Wray and Katherine True both moved
> forward - and Grace was gone - gone through her Open Door - gone on her beautiful journey to the arms of
> Abdu'l- Baha - (Both Edris Rice-Wray and Katherine True are doctors).
> 
> Told to me by Edris Rice-Wrays, M. D. c. 1944
> 
> OH SON OF THE SUPREME
> 
> I have made death a messenger of joy to thee. Wherefore dost thou grieve? I
> made the light to shine on thee its splendor. Why dost thou veil thyself therefrom?
> 
> Baha'u'llah - Hidden Words - Arabic 32
> 
> page 22
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Unstated invitation...
> 
> Harry Randall, the brother of Loulie Mathews, was a man of wealth and affairs. He had been a
> classmate of Harlan Ober at Harvard and so, when Harlan learned of the Faith and became a Baha'i, he very soon
> gave the Message to Harry, only to discover that, busy and occupied as he was with his manifold affairs, Harry
> Randall's interest went no farther than a polite and courteous response, which was far from satisfactory to
> Harlan. He persisted in trying to interest Harry further and when Abdu'l-Baha was to come to Boston, Harlan
> grew more and more pressing: Harry must go to hear Abdu'l-Baha speak; Harry must meet Him; Harry really
> owed it to himself not to miss this wonderful opportunity. Finally, Harry still uninterested, but courteously
> anxious to please this eager friend of his, agreed to go with Harlan to hear Abdu'l-Baha.
> Ruth - Harry's wife would not be able to go with him since she was a semi invalid, in and out of
> sanitariums for tuberculosis a great part of the time. Just then she had come home from one of these hospitals
> but she was far too frail to do anything but rest quietly at home.
> Harlan and Harry Randall went to the meeting together and after it was over, Harlan insisted upon taking Harry
> to meet Abdu'l-Baha. Harry. still uninterested but always courteous, did as Harlan wished, and what was his
> astonishment when Abdu'l-Baha warmly accepted an invitation to have tea the following afternoon at Harry's
> home! An invitation Harry had in no way extended. Appalled, Harry asked Harlan what on earth he should do
> about it? Harlan said. "Give a tea for Him what else can you do?" "But how can I? Ruth is ill. I'm busy. How
> on earth - ?" Harlan laughed, "You don't know Abdu'l-Baha or you'd know there's some sort of reason for this,
> and it'll get done. You have a houseful of servants - let them brew a cup of tea for the Master and invite a few
> friends in to share it." So this is what Harry did and the next afternoon when Abdu'l-Baha arrived at the lovely
> suburban home he found quite a group of people assembled on a wide verandah to receive Him. Ruth Randall,
> delicate and lovely, was also there, seated in a far corner where she might be safe from any draft. And it was to
> her, ignoring all the others, that Abdu'l-Baha strode, His white aba billowing with the swiftness of His tread;
> His beautiful eyes filled with light and love. Reaching her He bent above her, murmuring "My daughter My
> dear daughter" and lovingly He rested His hands on her shoulders Then He turned and, smilingly, met all the
> other guests.
> 
> The following day, Ruth had an appointment with her doctor, who had examined her the previous week
> and had said that it might be necessary for her to return to the sanitarium for further treatment. He would be
> sure after he had seen her again. Ruth went to this appointment fearfully she was so longing to remain at
> home, so very reluctant to be sent again to the hospital. The doctor examined her - and was amazed. What had
> she been doing? What could have happened to her? She was healed. There was not the least trace left of the
> tuberculosis. Of course, this was an experience that neither Harry nor Ruth could ignore, so it was the
> beginning of their long and glorious life-time of teaching and serving the Cause they came to love so well.
> Told to me by Harlan Ober
> at Green Acre Summer 1934
> 
> page 23
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Interactive guidance III
> 
> Harry Randall, once he had leaped the hurdle and become a Baha'i was a very enthusiastic one. When
> Harlan told him about 'guidance' - what a mystery it was, and how earnestly Harlan himself was trying to
> understand and live under it Harry, too, began to try to apply it. One afternoon he started out to take a walk
> and, in an effort to understand this guidance that Harlan talked about, Harry paused at each cross street and corner
> praying that he might be urged in whatever direction it might be that God wished him to take. He walked and
> walked, the city streets gave way to country roads and still he walked. At some corners he was moved to turn; at
> some he went straight ahead. But he felt no urge to stop he felt strongly that he should keep going. Finally, at
> the end of the afternoon, he came to a small white house surrounded by a picket fence - and here, with his hand
> on the gate, he knew this was the house he had been led to; this was the end of his walk. So he opened the gate,
> went up the short path and knocked at the door. A woman opened the door and, giving him one look, called
> back over her shoulder, 'John, John he's come!'
> 
> It seems that the night before, this woman had had a dream in which she had gone to open her door to
> one who knocked - a man who had come into her house and told her something that was so exciting and
> wonderful that when she woke up - though she couldn't remember what the exciting and wonderful thing had
> been - she was still so excited she'd told her husband about it. And then Harry had knocked - Harry had come
> into her house and Harry had told her about Baha'u'llah and given her the wonderful Message for the New Day.
> 
> Told to me by Harlan Ober
> at Green Acre, Summer 1934
> 
> page 24
> Mother's Stories
> 
> If Poverty...
> 
> Harry Randall, for all the years of his life, was a devoted servant of the Cause, giving generously of his
> great wealth, and giving as much time as he was able to, with his tremendous duties and responsibilities
> connected with his world of finance and business. Then came the Wall Street Crash in 1929 - and Harry's wealth
> was largely swept away. But Harry, struggling to rise above this tidal wave and to recoup his fortune from the
> ruin was still very busy with his affairs. Then, a few years later, he became paralyzed and was confined to a
> wheel chair. And now, stripped of his wealth and all forms of activity, Harry Randall became entirely a man of
> soul and spirit. The last summer he spent at Green Acre was a summer of light and radiance and glory. He sat
> on the wide verandah radiating all the illumination with which he was filled and to those privileged to be there
> that summer, the mere sight of Harry Randall. was a bounty indeed. It was, as Grace Ober said, "An
> unforgettable experience it was like looking at the pure spirit of all the Prophets." It was the beautiful
> preparation for his death which came not long after.
> 
> Told to me by Grace Ober
> Green Acre, Summer 1936
> 
> O SON OF MAN!
> 
> If poverty overtake thee, be not sad; for in time the Lord of wealth shall visit thee. Fear not abasement, for
> glory shall one day rest upon thee.
> 
> Hidden words of Baha'u'llah Arabic # 53.
> 
> page 25
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Green Acre...
> 
> The story of Green Acre itself is intensely interesting. The beautiful property the rolling meadows, the
> dear wide-verandahed Inn and, now, all the cottages surrounding it, together with the Tea House at the entrance
> leading from the highway and, farther down the road, the gracious Fellowship House - rises above the Piscataque
> River, the River of Light. And it was originally owned by Miss Sarah J. Farmer who was present at the
> Chicago Exposition in 1893 when, as we all know, the first mention of the Baha'i Revelation was made at the
> Congress of Religions. Miss Farmer became deeply interested in this matter of comparative religions and from
> that time was inspired to establish a summer school on this property of hers which became later our beloved
> Green Acre. In the summer of 1904 the brilliant and deeply loved Persian teacher, Abu'l Fadl, taught there and,
> of course, Abdu'l-Baha was there for some time during the summer of 1912.
> 
> But before this, before the property became definitely Baha'i property, there had been a good deal of
> contention and difficulty. Miss Farmer, after a few years spent in listening to the various speakers she brought
> to her summer school, realized that what the world longed for and what all peoples needed was One Universal
> Faith - and the Baha'i Revelation was the only answer to this problem. So, radiantly and with great certainty,
> she became a Baha'i. And this was all very well until she announced that she had made her will leaving her
> property to the Baha'is. Then her family rose in outrage and fury. They demanded that she change her will in
> their favor. She refused. At which they declared her insane and clapped her into an insane asylum.
> 
> When the Baha'is heard of this, there was great consternation and horror and grief. That such a dreadful
> thing could happen to this great and wonderful woman was simply past all belief. But it had happened and
> something, certainly, must be done about it. They tried to have her released but her family had consigned her,
> and only her family could release her, and this they refused to do. Then, an appeal was made to have Miss
> Farmer examined by atieniate to establish her sanity but this, too, could not be done. Other attempts were made
> - but there was no step that was not balked at by the Farmer family. Finally, in desperation, three Bahais
> (Harlan Ober and Montfort Milts were two of them) engineered a most dramatic rescue involving a ladder that
> took them over the high wall surrounding the insane asylum where Miss Farmer was incarcerated and then
> another tall ladder leading to her room. She had been told what to expect and she was waiting to be carried down
> and away.
> 
> In the Ober home, Grace also was waiting for the return of the rescuers and the rescued. In the dark
> hours of the early morning they all arrived and there was great rejoicing.
> 
> Eventually, of course, there was great hubbub and fury raised by the Farmer family and finally, they
> dragged the Baha'is into court to have the matter legally settled. The case was brought by John Mitchell who
> 
> page 26
> Mother's Stories
> 
> was a most brilliant lawyer and who, at that point, had never lost a case. The Baha'is were represented by
> Montfort Mills, and the Bah'is won. They won the freedom and safety of their radiant and devoted sister Sarah
> Farmer and they won Green Acre.
> Told to me by Grace Ober
> as Green Acre, Summer 1933
> 
> page 27
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Deserving boots...
> 
> It was at the home of the Kinneys that Abdu'l-Baha stayed the second time he came to New York and it
> was from this home that He left to return to Haifa. The day before He was to take ship to leave He asked Mr.
> Kinney if there was something amongst His belongings that He might offer as a gift of farewell. At first, Mr.
> Kinney was reluctant to choose, but finally he admitted that well, might he be given a pair of Abdu'l-Baha's
> boots? Those boots that had sheltered the feet that walked with such serene certainty upon the Path of God? Mr.
> Kinney would cherish these above all else.
> 
> So, with smiling love, Abdu'l-Baha gave a pair of His boots to Edward Kinney. Reverently and
> joyfully, Mr. Kinney laid them in a bureau drawer in his bedroom, carefully wrapped in a nest of tissue paper.
> Very rarely - since the boots were such an intimate and precious thing, were they shown to anyone though Mr.
> Kinney touched them frequently as he prayed.
> 
> Then one day, he did wish to show them to someone. He went to the bureau, pulled out the drawer -
> and the boots were gone - completely gone. No sign of them in the tissue paper, no sign of them in any other
> drawer, no sign of them in any part of the room which was searched carefully. There simply were no boots
> anywhere.
> 
> So Dad Kinney (he became 'Dad to all the hundreds who loved him) began to pray and he prayed,
> shaken, from the depths of his troubled soul. Why had the beloved boots been taken from him? Where had they
> gone? What could have happened? Was he had he become - unworthy to possess them? And, at last, he knew
> this was it. He was no longer worthy to hold the precious boots. Then why was he no longer worthy? What
> had he done between the time when he had last held the boots in his hands and the moment when he had
> discovered their absence?
> 
> It had been, he estimated, some two, possibly three weeks. So in deepest meditation, he went back,
> day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment over this period. He remembered his actions; he analyzed his
> motives; he reviewed his thoughts. And suddenly, in a blaze of illumination, he knew what it was. Deeply
> selfish materialism; clouded hypocritical motives; unjust actions. He had been guilty of all these. But he had
> deluded himself by calling them such fair and pretty names. No wonder the boots had been taken away. In all
> justice he had proved himself in no way worthy to hold such treasure. Humbled and ashamed, he prayed abjectly
> for forgiveness - and then, mournfully, he went to the bureau drawer - just to touch the tissue paper that once
> had protected the boots. And lo! the boots had returned. They were there, real and tangible; the leather soft
> beneath his fingertips, the well-worn soles smooth to his touch. They were there, but the warning was never
> forgotten - the lesson was well learned.
> Told to me by Edward Kinney in New York 1937
> 
> page 28
> Mother's Stories
> 
> May waits for Thomas...
> 
> One of the most beautiful stories we have is the one of May Maxwell (the mother of Ruhiyyih
> Khanum) and Thomas Breakwell. This was in the very early days, when Abdu'l-Baha was still a prisoner in
> Acca and May Maxwell was a young girl probably (judging by the dates available to me) 1905. The story was
> told to me by my father and by May Maxwell herself, but in this account, I am paraphrasing May Maxwell's
> own words to be found in the Star of the West.
> 
> She herself is not certain of the exact date though she will never forget the details. It happened in the
> Spring when May's mother and brother were planning to leave Paris for Brittany and of course they wished May
> to accompany them. But Abdu'l- Baha had requested that she remain in Paris so, upon her mother's insistence,
> she wrote to Abdu'l-Baha for His permission to leave. This was refused. He wished her to remain in Paris. So,
> finally May's mother and brother left without her and she went to stay with a friend.
> 
> It was not long after this that a Mrs. Milner, who had just arrived from America, brought a young
> man whom she had met on shipboard to meet May. In May's own words:
> 
> "I shall never forget opening the door and seeing him standing there. It was like looking at a veiled
> light. I saw at once his pure heart, his burning spirit, his thirsty soul, and over all was cast the veil which is
> over every soul until it is rent asunder by the power of God in this day."
> 
> Mrs. Milner introduced him as a young man interested in spiritual things, who was at the moment a
> Theosophist. They stayed only a short time, but as he was leaving, he said that Mrs. Milner had mentioned
> some teaching that May was interested in and might he call again to hear about it? He returned the next morning
> and May, realizing his great capacity, gave him the full Message - which he accepted completely and instantly.
> Three days later he wrote to Abdu'l-Baha saying with great simplicity, "My Lord! I believe; forgive me. Thy
> servant, Thomas Breakwell."
> 
> "That evening", writes May, "I went to the Rue du Bac to get my mail and found a cablegram which
> had just arrived saying, 'You may leave Paris.' and signed Abbas."
> 
> May continues, "I could write you pages about the beloved Thomas Breakwell; of the fire of love
> burning in his heart when he returned from Acca; of the penetrating spiritual power in our midst; of the light of
> servitude and sacrifice which burned so brilliantly in his soul... I only want to add that his kindness and love to
> my mother... produced a great effect on her... before she understood the glory of this Cause."
> 
> And, in the same issue of Star of the West, is Abdu'l- Baha's tablet to Breakwell which follows:
> 
> page 29
> Mother's Stories
> 
> "Do not lament over the departure of my dearly-beloved Breakwell. For verily, he has ascended to the
> Luminous Rose-Garden of the ABHA Kingdom, near the mercy of his Lord, the Almighty, and is crying out
> with the loudest voice, 0 thee my people know how my Lord hath forgiven me, and made me one of those who
> have attained the meeting of God!"
> 
> "0 Breakwell! my beloved! Where is thy beautiful countenance and where is thy eloquent tongue?
> Where is thy radiant brow and where thy brilliant face?"
> 
> "0 Breakwell! my beloved! Where is thy enkindlement with the Fire of the love of God, and where is
> thy attraction to the Fragrances of God? Where is thy utterance for the glorification of God, and where is thy
> rising in the service of God?"
> 
> "0 my dear! 0 Breakwell! Verily thou hast abandoned this transitory world, and soared upward to the
> Kingdom, hast attained to the Grace of the Invisible Realm, and sacrificed thyself to the Threshold of the Lord
> of Might!
> 
> "O my adored one! 0 Breakwell! Verily thou hast left behind this physical lamp, this human glass,
> these earthly elements and this worldly enjoyment."
> 
> "0 my adored one! 0 Breakwell Then thou hast ignited a light in the Glass of the Supreme Concourse,
> hast entered into the Paradise of ABHA; art protected under the shade of the Blessed Tree, and hast attained to the
> meeting (of the True One) in the abode of Paradise.
> "
> 0 my dearly-beloved! 0 Breakwell.' Thou hast been a divine bird, and forsaking thy earthly nests thou
> hast soared toward the Holy Rose-Gardens of the Divine Kingdom and obtained a Luminous Station there! "
> "
> 0 my dearly-beloved! 0 Breakwell! Verily thy Lord has chosen thee for His love, guided thee to the Court of
> His Holiness; caused thee to enter into the Rizwan of His Association and granted thee to behold His Beauty!"
> 
> "0 my beloved! 0 Breakwell! Verily thou hast attained to the Eternal Life, never-ending bounty,
> beautific bliss and immeasurable Providence!"
> 
> "0 my beloved! 0 Breakwell! Thou hast become a star in the Most Exalted Horizon, a lamp among the
> angels of heaven, a living spirit in the Supreme World and art established on the thro ne of immortality!"
> 
> "0 my adored one! 0 my Breakwell! I supplicate God to increase thy nearness and communication, to
> 
> page 30
> Mother's Stories
> 
> make thee enjoy thy prosperity and union (with Him), to add to thy light and beauty and to bestow upon thee
> Glory and Majesty."
> 
> "0 my adored one! 0 my Breakwell! I mention thy name continually, l never forget thee, I pray for thee
> day and night, and I see thee clearly and manifestly 0 my adored one! 0 Breakwell! ."
> (signed) Abdu'l-Baha Abbas
> 
> Copied from Star of the West Vol. V No. 19 pgs. 296 - 8
> 
> (note: I was not able to find the date of the passing of Thomas Breakwell from this world of limitation to the
> next world. of God but I was told his health was far from robust and his years of illuminated service were not
> many. )
> 
> page 31
> Mother's Stories
> 
> The Meeting...
> 
> Howard Colby Ives (my father) first heard of the Faith through Clarence Moore (the father of Emily
> Kalantar) and, from the very first mention, he was skeptically reluctant to put such faith in this wonderful
> Message. For years he had put his faith in various things and in the end, found that faith betrayed. In his
> search, he had become a Unitarian minister and was, at the time of his meeting with Clarence Moore,
> becoming, as he had before with other beliefs, disillusioned and unhappy within the confinement of a dogma.
> So he was not about to pin this tattered hope of his to any new masthead only to have it torn down once more.
> He and Clarence had many hours of discussion, but Father, longing so desperately to find the Truth that would,
> for all eternity, prove itself to be unflawed and real, refused to be moved from his stand of doubt and fearfulness.
> 'It is a beautiful Message", he told Clarence, "It is a beautiful dream. It is good that you and others are able to
> dream it. But I - I have dreamed too much and too often and the awakening has always been too bitter. I cannot
> dream again and wake again." It was too painful for him even to contemplate.
> 
> Then came the Spring when Abdu'l-Baha was arriving in New York. And, Clarence, radiant, said,
> "Howard, you must meet Him and I am sure all will be well with you." Father refused. "What good would it
> do?" he asked. "We would be lost in a vast crowd of people. He would be wholly concerned with his audience I
> would be lucky if I glimpsed the top of his turban. What would be the use? Now if I might meet Him face to
> face - if we might commune heart-to-heart - alone with no one to interrupt, Ah, then we might truly meet."
> Father's tone betrayed his hope - but Clarence sighed and shook his head. "No one meets Abdu'l-Baha alone - it
> is necessary that all His words be recorded; He is always accompanied by His secretaries and friends."
> 
> But, in spite of this attitude of Father's Clarence persisted, and finally he brought Montfort Mills to
> add his persuasion - and between them they finally managed to bring Father to the Hotel Ansonia, where at that
> time Abdu'l-Baha was staying. And it was exactly as Father had imagined it to be. The living room of the suite
> was crowded, there was barely room to stand and the air was filled with chatter. Father, disgusted that he had
> permitted himself to be talked into such a hopeless hubbub and realizing a fresh the absurdity of even thinking
> he'd discover any truth in all the confusion, walked over to a window and looked down on the Broadway traffic.
> It was then he heard a door open and turned. A door had opened and in the doorway stood a Persian who, as he
> caught Father's eye, beckoned to him. Father hesitated         this was not possible, the man was, of course,
> beckoning to someone else. But he beckoned again, unmistakably, and Father moved across the room and
> entered the doorway.
> 
> It was Abdu'l-Baha's bedroom that he stepped into and, as Father crossed the threshold, everyone in the
> room left by another door, Father and Abdu'l-Baha were alone. For a moment they stood and looked at each
> other then Abdu'l-Baha opened his arms and Father walked into them, "My son my very dear son" - murmured
> Abdu'l-Baha and embraced him deeply. Then He motioned to a chair and Father sat down. Abdu'l-Baha sat down
> 
> page 32
> Mother's Stories
> 
> close by. Nothing at all was said, The moments flowed by. Occasionally Abdu'l-Baha reached out and patted
> Fathers knee, gently and lovingly. And Father sat there. Later he said, "I knew then that I had found all and
> more than I was seeking - I had found a Man for the first time in my life who was truly possessed of the Pearl
> of Great Price, I had found flowing all around me and pouring through me, the infinite peace of which I had
> dreamed for all my life long." In that long sweet silence in the presence of the Master my Father had been given
> the bounty of deep, unshakable, unquestioning, everlasting Faith.
> 
> And for all the remaining years of his life he dedicated every breath he drew to sharing this Faith with
> everyone he met.
> 
> Told to me by Father first in 1912
> and countless times later.
> 
> page 33
> Mother's Stories
> 
> Abdu'l-Baha
> 
> page 34
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> S T 0 R I E S 0 F       A B D U ' L - B A H A
> 
> as told by
> 
> M O T H E R
> 
> Muriel Ives Barrow Newhall
> 
> page 35
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> Introduction
> 
> Abdu'l-Baha, in appearance, was a man of medium height though to all who met Him, He gave the
> impression of such majesty that He seemed much taller. His beard was flowing and white; His head covering,
> whether a turban or tarboosh, was white also. But, meeting Him, none of these details were even noticed. It was
> only the spirit one felt and the outpouring love. Love filled Him and flowed out from Him to bathe and
> encompass everyone in His presence.
> 
> He was, as we all know, the Mystery of God. His Station is unique. There has been no one like Him in
> any past religious era, nor will there ever be such in the future. Baha'u'llah had bestowed upon Him the
> assurance of God's guidance in His explanations of anything in the Teachings that needed clarifying for the
> believers and, when He was but ten years old, His Father, Baha'u'llah, addressed Him and referred to Him as 'the
> Master.'
> 
> He was the perfect Exemplar of the Baha'i Teachings: He lived by prayer and wished only to be known as
> 'Abdu'l-Baha the servant of the servants. He made no mistakes.
> 
> Yet, with all this, He needed, as we all need, the constant attitude of prayer to renew and revivify Him,
> and, urging us ever upward. His constant adjuration was, "Do as I do. Be as I am.
> 
> page 36
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> Repetition
> 
> When He was here in America in 1912 He spoke in many places and, as we read these talks in the
> Promulgation of Universal Peace, it is very often noticeable how much He repeats Himself, approaching the
> point He wishes to make from many angles. One evening a woman, after telling Him how much she had
> enjoyed His Talk, complained of this. He smiled at her gently.
> 
> "And what is it I repeat?" He asked.
> 
> Of course she couldn't tell Him.
> 
> Golden rain...
> 
> Abdu'l-Baha was so filled with love and the reflected Glory of God, the heritage from His Father,
> Baha'u'llah, that it radiated from Him like light from a lighthouse. Sometimes this was visible. Nina
> Mattieson told this story that Lady Blomfield had told her. Abdu'l-Baha was speaking from the pulpit of a
> church in London and Lady Blomfield, sitting toward the back of the congregation, clearly saw broad rays of
> golden light pouring from Him over the people. But she noticed a strange thing: The Golden Rain - as she
> thought of it afterward - avoided some people completely, while others it flooded in illumination.
> 
> Not yet known.
> 
> At the time of Abdu'l-Baha's second visit to Newark, He spoke in my Father's Brotherhood Church in
> Jersey City. My father had begged Him to do this, and at once Abdu'l-Baha had consented, but He would set no
> date. Father was eager and anxious that a date be definitely set, partly because the Master was to leave New
> York again - this time for California, and partly because he knew from experience that to have a successful
> meeting required publicity and announcements and invitations, all of which took time. So he began pressing
> Abdu'1-Baha for the date. Each time the Master would smile gently, pause a moment (to consult some inner
> knowledge?) then, shaking His head, would murmur "It is not yet known." Father, a not-too-patient man, urged
> in every way he could but he got nothing more. And the date of 'Abdu'l-Baha's departure was approaching.
> Suddenly, early in one week, He announced He would speak the following Sunday. Father was frantic. Only
> four or five days to publicize such an important event. But, to his astonishment, there was plenty of time.
> Doors opened swiftly, one after the other, and when that Sunday evening came the large hall that Father had
> 
> page 37
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> rented for his Brotherhood Church was completely filled with the overflow standing along the back.
> 
> Of course 'Abdu'l-Baha spoke about brotherhood. True- brotherhood that transcended national boundaries
> and religious customs and practices and paid no heed to the unimportant surface differences of skin color. For of
> what importance were these when it was the Soul of a man that mattered in its relationship to the Spirit of
> God? And if this true brotherhood were practiced throughout the world if each man truly loved his brother more
> than he loved himself, considering his brother's welfare far more than his own, Mankind would truly become
> mature, and the Kingdom of God on earth would become a fact. And wasn't this the essence of Baha'u'llah's
> Message? Wasn't this the reason why He had endured the persecutions, the exiles, and the imprisonments? To
> announce to mankind the dawning of this great New Day - the rolling up of the Old World Order and the
> glorious unrolling of this New World Order under the aegis of Baha'u'llah - the Glory of God?
> 
> Translation...
> 
> And sometimes this great love and glory was strongly felt. There is the story of the coal miner in
> California who had walked many miles to meet Abdu'l-Baha Who, of course spoke that evening as He always
> did through an interpreter. The coal miner became more and more impatient. Finally, unable to stand it any
> longer, he leaned toward the man sitting next to him. "Why does that man continually interrupt the Master?"
> he asked. The man explained, "Abdu'l-Baha is speaking in Persian it must, be translated." "Translated!" the
> coal miner was outraged. "Nothing Abdu'l-Baha says needs translating - anybody can understand Him."
> 
> Dedication
> 
> Then there is the story about our dear Fujita his wiry little Japanese-American body so radiating joy and love -
> his smile like a veritable explosion of the spirit. Fujita met 'Abdu'l-Baha in Cleveland, Ohio. At that time
> Fujita was a medical student but the moment he met the Master he was one no longer. He dropped his studies,
> his former life, everything to follow Him. He followed from Cleveland to Chicago and finally to California
> and eventually to New York and Haifa where, for fifty years, he made and kept those beautiful gardens even
> more beautiful. First for Abdu'l-Baha, and then for Shoghi Effendi. When I was there, in 1972, Fujita had been
> retired from active gardening and had been appointed as a one-man welcoming committee to the home of
> Abdu'l-Baha. He has now crossed the threshold into the next world of God, but I have the memory of him
> standing at that lovely wrought iron gate, smiling his explosive smile and waving us on our way.
> 
> At the zoo
> 
> When Abdu'l-Baha was first in Chicago it, was Spring and He was eager to go to the zoo. He had never
> seen a large city zoo, and He was very merry over the prospect. Then it was explained to Him that, this being
> page 38
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> the Spring of the year, most of the animal-mothers would be bearing litters and, at the first approach of a
> stranger, they'd rush their babies into safe hiding. This did not perturb Abdu’l-Baha at all. He wanted to go
> anyhow. So a group of five or six of the Friends took Him. He motioned to them to stay a little behind and He
> went forward all alone. And, as He approached each cage, the small animal-mother brought out all her babies to
> show Him, then hurried them back to safety and protection from the following Friends.
> 
> Questions not asked...
> 
> Once Abdu'l-Baha asked His Father, Baha’u’llah why it was He had never clearly designated the language
> that was to become universal. And Baha'u'llah said, very simply, "Because no one ever asked Me." This answer
> has always filled me with a sense of frustrated awe. To think that the opportunity was given mankind to learn
> the answers to questions that had puzzled him since the beginning of time to have the mysteries of the universe
> solved! If only he had asked the questions and known the right questions to ask.
> 
> Books
> 
> A Pilgrim once told me that she had asked the Guardian why so few of the books of Baha'u'llah had been
> translated into English. Shoghi Effendi smiled at her lovingly and said it would be many years before the books
> we of the West had would be truly and deeply studied - when that happened more would be given us.
> 
> Study, study, study
> 
> Which brings to mind the story told me of a newly declared believer, radiant and eager to serve. He wrote
> Abdu'l-Baha asking what he should do. Abdu'l-Baha told him to study the Teachings. Eighteen years later the
> man wrote again to the Master saying that for several hours each day for the eighteen years he had studied the
> Teachings and what should he do now? Promptly Abdu'l-Baha wrote and told him to go and study the
> Teachings. This was an East Indian Baha’i where, now, the Faith is truly roaring.
> 
> Sow the seeds...
> 
> And there is another story concerning India. Once, in the early days, Abdu'l-Baha sent an eager believer
> there to 'sow the seed, deliver the Message.' The man went, and two years later returned very discouraged. "I
> have sown the seed. I have delivered the Message through the length and breadth of India and they will not
> listen. Not one single soul has declared his belief in Baha'u'llah! What shall I do now?" And Abdu'l-Baha
> saidrather sternly, "Go back and sow the seeds. I did not tell you to gain believers. I told you to sow the seeds."
> 
> page 39
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> A book
> 
> On one of His visits to New York He stayed with Juliet Thompson on West 10th Street not far
> from Fifth Avenue. Two or three doors away and across the street, the poet Khalil Gibran was staying with
> friends. He and Abdu'l-Baha had met in Syria so now they met again. Gibran said that he believed in everything
> Baha’u’llah had taught, but that he would never declare himself as a Baha'i because he had his own message to
> give to mankind and he wished this to remain clearly his. However, said Gibran, he would like to do something
> for Abdu'l-Baha - so what might he do? "Abdu'l-Baha was pleased and said, very good - go write me a book and
> the famous Jesus, Son of Man by Khalil Gibran's was that book. . . .
> 
> This story was told to me by Hammideh Khan whose father, Ali Kuli Khan had been told it by
> Abdu'l-Baha, Himself.
> 
> Obedience and trust
> 
> Every thing He did or said taught someone something: but He warned, "Listen to and obey the first
> thing I say - for that is what is best for you. If, however, I find you reluctant, I soften and reduce My request till
> I arrive at a burden that, you feel, suits the strength of your shoulders. But My first request would not have been
> beyond your strength - if you had only trusted Me." Shoghi Effendi repeated this and it seems the Universal
> House of Justice functions on the same principle.
> 
> Charity
> 
> With all of His spiritual knowledge and vision Abdu'l-Baha was extremely practical. On His third
> visit to New York He stayed with the Kinneys at their home on West End Avenue. This was only one block
> from Riverside Drive, where, often, He would walk. One late afternoon He came back with his snowy 'aba'
> wrapped close around Him and He was laughing. It seemed that on the Drive, he had come across a poor man
> whose trousers were literally in rags. So Abdu'l-Baha had taken him behind some thick shrubbery where quickly
> He had taken off his own trousers, stripped the rags from the man, and got him decently clothed. How amazed
> that poor man must have been. And how amused Abdu'l-Baha, who, with his aba wrapped tight around him to
> hide his trouser less condition came home laughing.
> 
> Lover of truth
> 
> It was some years before this, when Abdu'l-Baha was in Paris, that a group of men from Teheran came
> to Him deeply troubled, They had walked all the way from their homes in Persia - since traveling on foot was
> the only proper way to meet their Master - to make what they considered a most vital request. In a village, there
> was a Baha'i who was causing a great deal of trouble because of the lies he told. He lied about everything with
> 
> page 40
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> the result that misunderstandings, distrust and confusion reigned. This dreadful situation, Abdu'l-Baha would,
> they begged, have to do something about. Abdu'l-Baha agreed; indeed it was a most dreadful situation and
> certainly He would do something about it. He would write the man a letter. And the salutation at, the heading of
> this letter was, "0 thou great lover of Truth" (Sadly there is no record I have seen of the balance of this Epistle -
> which must have been priceless.)
> 
> Detachment
> 
> As an example of the methods of Abdu'l-Baha's teaching: My father was having difficulty
> understanding this matter of Detachment. Just what were we supposed to become detached from? We were taught
> not to become isolated and detached as were the monks in a monastery. It was also an obligation to work and
> support those dependent upon us. So where did detachment fit into this picture? One day Father asked Abdu'l-
> Baha about all this. They were walking up Broadway after a meeting and Abdu'l-Baha made no answer. After
> walking a few blocks, Father repeated his question. Still no answer. They reached 76th Street, where the
> Kinneys lived and turned left to West End Avenue. As they mounted the outside steps, Father asked for the
> third time. Abdu'l-Baha reached the front door, opened it, and started up the inner stair to His room, Father
> pattering along after. They reached the second floor, and turned on up to the third, Father following doggedly.
> Abdu'l-Baha entered His room with Father close on His heels. And there the Master turned. "Mistair Ives," He
> asked gently, "Are you interested in detachment?" Father, his face scarlet, was silent. He couldn't say he was
> and he wouldn't say he wasn't.
> 
> In His foot steps
> 
> There are many stories of Lua Getsinger. This one was told me by Grace Ober, who heard it from Lua
> herself. It happened on one of Lua's several visits to Acca and Haifa when she and Abdu'l-Baha were walking
> together on the beach. Lua dropped behind slightly and began fitting her small feet, into His much larger foot
> prints. After a few moments the Master turned to ask what she was doing. "I am following in your footsteps,"
> said Lua. He turned away and they walked on. A few moments later, He turned again, "Do you wish to
> followin my foot steps?" He asked. "Oh, yes," said Lua. They walked on - and Abdu'l-Baha turned again,
> "Lua! Do you wish to follow in my foot steps?" His tone was louder and stern. "Oh, yes," said Lua again.
> Then, the thirdtime he stopped and faced her. "Lua!" it was almost a shout, "Do you wish to follow in My
> foot steps?" "Oh,yes!" said Lua for the third time - and with that, a great tarantula jumped out from a hillock
> of sand and bit herankle. Abdu'l-Baha saw this and paid no attention, turning away and again walking. Lua
> followed, still fittingher footsteps into His. Her ankle swelled, the pain became excruciating, till, finally, she
> sank down with theagony of it. Then Abdu'l-Baha picked her up and carried her to the ladies quarters, where
> the Greatest Holy Leafput her to bed. The agony increased. Lua's temperature flamed; delirium set in. Finally,
> the Greatest Holy Leafcould stand it no longer and she implored Abdu'l-Baha to heal her. He examined her
> page 41                                 carefully then laid His
> Stories of Abdu'l-Baha as told by Mother
> 
> hands gently on her forehead. The temperature drained away, her head cleared she was healed. And it was only
> later that it was explained to her that she had been suffering from a strange and virulent condition of her blood
> which the bite of the tarantula had cured.
> 
> page 42
>
> — *Mother's Stories: Recollections of Abdu'l-Baha (Used by permission of the curator)*