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ABOUT

Narrates the period in Mother's life when she plunges deep into occultism, meeting with breathtaking adventures and strange powers on her way - till she breaks through the limits of that dangerously deceptive world.

Mother's Chronicles - Book Three

  The Mother : Biography

Sujata Nahar
Sujata Nahar

Narrates the period in Mother's life when she plunges deep into occultism, meeting with breathtaking adventures and strange powers on her way - till she breaks through the limits of that dangerously deceptive world.

Mother's Chronicles - Book Three
English
 PDF    LINK  The Mother : Biography

23

They Came as Forerunners

Came a bolt from the blue.

Madame Theon was dead.

Mirra heard the news in utter disbelief. Why? Why? Oh, why?

How? When? Where?

After eighty years the trail was evidently cold. But in 1988 Patrice followed it doggedly and his perseverance paid off. Helped by Christian Chanel, he came up with a few hard facts which have enabled us to reconstruct the sequence of events.

The Théons were spending that summer of 1908 at Courseulles, with the Thémanlys family, when Madame Theon decided to visit the Channel Islands. We do not know for what reason. So, early in September, she went to the port of Carteret on the Normandy coast. Cotentin, as the French call this

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peninsula jutting out into the English Channel, has a rocky coast. Before taking the steamer that was to ferry her to the island of Jersey, she went out for a stroll on the narrow cliff path, 'le Sentier de la Corniche,' which soon gets narrower and rather dangerous. As she was walking along in a trance, she fell off the promontory and into the sea. The water in September is chilly there. But undeterred, she did not cancel her short voyage —from Carteret to Jersey is more or less 30 kilometres, and the steamer would have made it well within two hours. But once the ship had sailed, she suddenly felt an extreme malaise. So much so that the Captain on board the ship informed the officer commanding the Port of Gorey in Jersey that one of the passengers, a lady, was sick. The news was published in a local daily, datelined 12 September 1908, which contained additional details: Upon the ship's arrival, a doctor, O' Connor, examined her and diagnosed pneumonia. She was immediately transported to Hotel Elfine, where she died almost immediately after. It seems that she was taken to a hotel — the nearest available —rather than to a hospital because of her critical condition. The newspaper states further that a telegram was sent to her

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husband, Max Theon, editor of The Cosmic Review in Algeria, who arrived by S.S. Cygne. She was buried in the cemetary of the Croix-Grouville in the island of Jersey.

Théon of course had to register her demise before the burial, and obtain a death certificate. The entry in the register1 goes thus:

Place: Faldouët

Date: 10 September 1908

Name: Miriam Lin Woodroffe

Sex: Female

Age: 65 years

Cause of death: Pneumonia

Registered on: 12 September 1908

In the Parish of St-Martin Jersey.

There are some discrepancies between the marriage certificate and the death register, such as Madame Théon's name, age, etc., but as we have seen, Theon didn't much care for officialdom.

Or he might have been too numb. Admittedly, the departure of his twenty-three years' companion

1. Jersey being French-speaking, the original entries are in French.

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(from March 1885 to September 1908) —and what a companion! —was a terrible blow to Theon. He fell a prey to a profound depression.

The Thémanlys couple took their broken-hearted Master to their Normandy home and for several months nursed him with loving care, until he was somewhat recovered and could travel. He then returned to Tlemcen.

But before doing that he told the members of the Cosmic movement that as the Heart of the Movement had stopped beating, the publication of the Cosmic Review would stop too. Thus the Cosmic Review was published only for seven years —from January 1902 to December 1908.

It was in the November 1908 issue that Mirra poured forth her own sorrow at the sudden demise of Madame Theon. Herebelow we give an English rendering of the article.

THE EMPTY PLACE

"No more do we see her dear form, of harmonious lines, her likable face so good and so tender, furrowed

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by long years of a Psychic Fighter's life; nor her sweet smile like sunbeam which chases away sadness, nor her calm and majestic bearing fit for a pre-eminent Victress!

"No more do we hear her melodious voice, her gentle words inspired by wisdom, that powerful and profound poetry which flowed like a magnificent river from the pure source of the Soph, and through which this great intelligence expressed itself in the immense range of her vast knowledge!

"The dear psychic children kiss no more her small hands of a Sensitive, her small industrious and diligent hands, ceaselessly occupied with works of art and literature, as also —and above all —with the care of the sacred life of the Home, the blessed shelter of love!

"We heard her tell the story of a long-ago ghost who, from time to time, came to sit by the family hearth among her own people.

"Will she, too, return to gladden us by her presence? Will she let us once again rest at her feet as in the days gone by?

"And it is by no means a dream, this, not a

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baseless construction : surely she will return! Surely she will appear before us, visibly even to the neuron physical state.

"Life is universal; it is one; eternal; unchangeable; it changes but in the form, and it reigns, sovereign unifier, in her who, being individualized, has not quit us for long.

"Already She approaches, She is amongst her own, who are aware of a close link with Her, a gradual awareness growing day by day, in the same way as Her own consciousness, too, becomes ever more present and more complete.

"Let us whiten our clothes so that they may not be too unworthy in the presence of her luminous robe, pure, immaculate; and may our tears, shed with such pain, wash away the stains with which we may have sullied them by uncharitable thoughts, words or deeds.

"Let us march on courageously straight ahead, let us pursue this path on which She has led us: it is painful at this moment; but as we walk on it our pain will lessen until we hear the heroic chants of the glad victory, when the last dark veil, drawn aside, reveals

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to us the so dearly Beloved, who conquers us and brings us happiness, as a Triumphant Queen!"

It is as though Mirra had penned this for us, Mother's children, for the time when she herself would leave us behind.

*

* *

Théon returned to Tlemcen.

His visits to France became extremely rare. So rare that most people believed he had died in 1913 or thereabouts.

In 1971, Satprem asked Mother, "Isn't he upon earth anymore? He left his body?"

She replied, "Oh, yes! Long ago. I think he left before I came here. Long ago."

Pascal Thémanlys, however, wrote, "I saw him during one of his sojourns in Paris in 1920. Subsequently he returned to Tlemcen and lived there in company with his devoted secretary, Miss Teresa, up to 1926."

By 1920 Mother had already left France. But

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her words reflected the widely held belief about Théon's earlier demise. There was a reason which gave currency to this belief, as can be seen from a few jottings from Teresa's diary:

"1913, October 18 —Dear Theon has gone to Alger about autos.

"1913, October 24—Theon came home accident with the auto."

He must have suffered agonies, because she went on to note down:

" 1913, November 1 —Doctor has now set the fracture, so dear Theon will suffer less & less now, I hope, for he has suffered terribly."

Then two months later, she wrote:

"1914, January —Theon left his rooms for the first time since his accident & walked in the court (with crutches)."

That, then, is the reason why people thought he had died in 1913.

He was still in Tlemcen and gaining strength when the 1914 war broke out. It quite upset him, for he held a war to be "the greatest crime, because life is

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sacred." In fact, according to him, the ideal political system ought to be a Government by the Wise. Alas for us, more and more headless people seem to be occupying the seats of power!

Be that as it may, during the four years of war they did not move from Tlemcen apparently. It was almost one year after the armistice that Theon and Teresa ventured out of Africa.

Gleanings from Teresa's diary:

"1919, October 10 —Here we are [in Paris] . . . after a

very long & troublesome journey "1920, June 3 —We start for Tlemcen "1920, June 8 —Got home at last"

In all probability this was their last homecoming, because in 1920 both of them were well into their seventies and must have found travelling more and more difficult. In fact, if one fell ill, which happened, the other was unable to do any nursing.

Finally, according to a small paragraph in a newspaper published at Tlemcen, Theon died on 4 March 1927, and the funeral was held on 6 March 1927.

Teresa survived him perhaps by two years.

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When she too passed away, the authorities put up the property, which was in Madame Théon's name, to auction since there were no legal heirs.

It was a very nice young Arab boy, who told Patrice that his maternal grandfather had bought the house in 1930.

*

* *

6 March 1988.

"BUSHAOR! It's Bushaor!!" exclaimed in unison all the old men crowding around Patrice to see the photo he was holding aloft.

Patrice had gone to Tlemcen to try and find out more about Theon and visit Zarif where Mother had had so many experiences. After several false trails he hit upon the idea of visiting the local old men's club. At first the old men shook their heads when he asked them if they remembered Max Theon or Aia Aziz. No, the names evoked no response. Then he brought out a photo of Theon and showed it to them. It was then that they expressed their amazement at suddenly seeing a familiar face.

"Bushaor! It's Bushaor!!" all of them cried

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delightedly. Then they explained to Patrice that this was their nickname for the old man because of his long hair. Now they themselves were old, but when they had known him they were in their twenties or even less. But they still remembered a few things about Theon. "It was someone who didn't have very many contacts," they said. "He didn't speak. Oh, he was some kind of . . . magician. Nobody dared to approach him. People were afraid of him. Nobody went inside his property. But he would be seen now and then, just like that, when he came down into town. We would see him walking; he had long hair, wore a beret, and also a great big costume. For us," the Arabs said, "only prophets dress in that fashion. So then ..."

At any rate, it was one of the old men who kindly guided Patrice to Zarif. It was there that the latter met the young boy and his family who showed him around the house. The boy's mother felt sorry that their visitor could not meet her father who had passed away only a few years earlier; for the old man was for ever telling his little daughter stories about Theon and happenings at Zarif, to which she had paid but scant attention.

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But there still are people alive in Tlemcen who remember Theon.

*

* *

When the news of Madame Théon's death reached her, Mirra was stunned. Understandably. "She was a marvellous woman from the standpoint of experience —unique ..." Mother was to tell Satprem half a century later. "Madame Theon was the first to tell me what I was, what she had seen —the crown of twelve pearls over my head," she told us. "Madame Theon said to me —I used to narrate to her all my childhood stories —she told me, 'Oh, but of course! I know: You are that and the sign is on you, and it is that.' "

Why did Mirra have to lose such a precious one barely found?

My own feeling is that Madame Theon left only after she had met Mirra and was assured that their work, for which she and Theon had come, would be carried on and completed.

She gone, he was lost. But he was too great to remain just a miracle-maker. To quote Satprem, "We

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would be doing an injustice to Theon were we to think he was in pursuit of the great, dazzling powers.... He was in search of something much more momentous. Perhaps Théon's tragedy is this: the underlying defiance and grief and irony of a certain greatness that knows itself doomed to failure, but that struggles all the same like a veritable conquering doge. One day, perhaps, we shall see him again, without his toga, perhaps even in rags, sowing the seeds of revolution amongst the last stragglers of the old world."

Sri Aurobindo was to say, "Theon knew that he was not meant to succeed, but had only come to prepare the way to a certain extent."

And Mother: "But truly, they came as FORERUNNERS."

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