ABOUT

A compilation of Huta’s autobiographical notes, about which The Mother said : 'This is the interesting story of how a being discovers the Divine Life.'

The Story of a Soul

  The Mother : Contact

Huta
Huta

The Story of a Soul, Huta's journal of her progress on the spiritual path, runs from 1954 to 1973. This records many of her conversations with the Mother, their private meditations in the Mother's room at the Playground, and their correspondence. In her numerous cards and messages the Mother consoled Huta in her difficulties, appreciated her skill in various works, and promised to help her realise her true being.

The Story of a Soul
English
 The Mother : Contact

Undated?

Occasionally the Mother suffered from toothache. She disliked going out with a swollen cheek, so she remained in her apartment for a few days. I was filled with terrible dread, and felt lost without seeing her. To make it worse, some people started making random speculations about her. Since I was ultra-sensitive and sentimental, I was very much affected by their vibrations. Prickles of fear ran up my spine. This was how the dire and dangerous forces assaulted me.

The Mother consoled me:

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Surely, my child, I have no intention of leaving you and you need not worry. But why do you listen to all the rubbish people say? they are full of mischief and throw their poison on everybody.

One thing you must know and never forget—it is all that is true and sincere will always be kept—only what is false and insincere will disappear.

So—in the measure in which your need for me is sincere and genuine, it will be fulfilled.

With my love and blessings.

But still I was deluded and fearful. Especially at night I often sat on the wide ledge under the open shutters of the window, pressed my head between my hands and sobbed my heart out. My mind spun and reacted unendingly. Without the Mother my life would be bitter and empty, I thought. I lay awake in my bed most of the night, staring into the gloom, my heart heavy and aching with an indefinable sadness.

The Mother expressed her sympathy and concern:

My child,

I am always with you and will never leave you. But as you are asking what to do, I shall tell you one thing that you must do, because it will help you.

Even if you do not understand French, come to all my French lessons, that is to say: Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 5.30 p.m. for the translation lessons; Wednesdays and Fridays at about 7.15 or 7.30 p.m. for the class and the reading.

You will sit there and listen and after some time you will see that you will understand more and more and in any case, understanding or not, you will be near me, like the baby cat near his mother, and you will benefit from the atmosphere.

I set off enthusiastically for the lesson, but I did not know which room to go to, or where to sit. I asked a few people who were going there. They gave me evasive answers, and told me sternly that there was no room for me in the class as it was already overcrowded. "Besides, you have no knowledge of French," they added.

Some people were jealous of me and harrassed me in every possible way. I was at a loss to understand this: what made them dislike me so much? I was certainly not wise, literate, spiritualised, as I believed they were. Yet I felt I should obey the Mother. So I found my way and stood near the classroom waiting for the Mother to arrive, as some others were doing. There too I had the feeling that certain people were trying to humiliate me. My eyes swam with tears and countless defeatist thoughts raced through my mind. I was at my lowest ebb at that moment.

The Mother came out of her room and asked for me. I approached her. She still looked wan and unwell. With a soft smile, she handed me a copy of The Human Cycle. Then she put her arm around my shoulders and led me into the class. Everyone stood up. Indeed, the room was packed, but she gave me a good seat just in front of her on the second bench. My heart was silently grateful.

The Mother sat at her writing table. Before she started to translate The Human Cycle into French, she spread her gaze over all of us with a warm smile.

I opened the book she had given me and found a pretty page-marker. On the fly-leaf she had written:

To Huta

with blessings.

The Mother began the lesson. Her voice was music to my ears. I tried to take down her dictation, but it was too difficult for me. I gave up, and turned several pages of the book; but I could not grasp anything. I felt drowsy.

The class ended. She looked fatigued. Slowly she rose from her chair and glanced briefly at me before making her exit.

Some people looked at me suspiciously or enviously. I could not care less, and went happily to Golconde.


On September 8, in answer to a letter of mine, the Mother wrote:

I have not forgotten my promise to see you after the sports, and your name was on the list of interviews. But this month is full of birthdays that have taken all my time, and now I am free only on Tuesday the 20th at 5.30. I have put your name for an interview that day.

With my love and blessings.

I still had to wait for what seemed an eternity.

My work continued. In addition, I sewed dresses for the Mother. And to take my mind off my problems, I thought of doing some embroidery on a lap-cloth for the Mother—when distributing eatables she used lap-cloths in different colours, matching her dresses. I was inspired to draw a design of two lamps touching at the points where the flames are lit, so that the two flames are fused into a single one. Beneath it the following lines, composed by me, were also to be embroidered:

Let it not go out, this tender flame of my love and my faith in Thee, O Great Flame! Let this flame be one with Thy Immortal Flame, 0 light it for ever with Thy Love, Grace and Thy Blessings.

Tender flame

At the appointed time I went to the Mother. She was extraordinarily gracious to me. I was touched almost to tears. She understood my feelings.

I gave her the lap-cloth in a box. She opened it and examined my work with a magnifying glass. Her eyes were alight with surprise and appreciation. She closed the box and set it aside, took my hands into hers and went deep into trance. After awaking she said solemnly:

Child, you should never listen to what people say. And if you do, then you should hear it with one ear and let it out through the other.

If something wrong happens, at once repeat my name, "Ma, Ma." That is like a meditation. Whenever you repeat the Name of the Divine you must always feel that the Divine is in your heart—there you can feel sweetness and peace. No doubt sometimes you do not feel the Divine's Presence and Peace; it is because your consciousness is entangled in the mind, and full of illusions. But you must understand that the hostile forces are false and the Divine Forces are true. You must always develop your consciousness towards the Divine Light.

At the same time you should eat well—not for your own sake, but for the sake of the Lord and His work. You should keep your body fit. Relax before you go to sleep and call me and then sleep in that atmosphere. Then my Force will work and will organise the whole being.

You must never think that the thing is difficult or impossible for you to put into practice and never say that you cannot do anything. Instead of that you must say, "The Lord makes everything easier for me." In fact you must try your best to achieve your goal. Keep absolute faith and a strong will. If you remain idle, without making any effort, and say, "Ah! I want everything," well, then it is quite impossible for you to attain your goal.

When you feel my Presence, Peace and Joy, you must always believe in these things because they are true. As you gradually feel the Divine's Presence, you will get new strength, new consciousness, everything.

Once and for all the adverse forces are bound to submit to the Divine Forces, and the Divine's Victory is certain.

Then she kissed my forehead and gave me some flowers.

In the evening, when she distributed groundnuts to everyone in the Playground, she spread the lap-cloth I had made over her dress, although it did not match it. When it was my turn, she smiled significantly, and I smiled in return.










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