First Meeting at the Hotel Ansonia

*A retelling based on **Portals to Freedom** by Howard Colby Ives (George Ronald, 1937), chapter 1. The closing line is Ives's own.*

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In the months before 'Abdu'l-Bahá reached America in April 1912, Howard Colby Ives, a clergyman in New Jersey who was deeply unhappy in his search for God, had been reading about the Bahá'í Faith and talking with its followers, none of whom, he says, could calm his restless soul. Walking one February day with his friend Mountfort Mills, he said on impulse that when the Master arrived he would like to talk with Him alone, without even an interpreter.

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Mills smiled and pointed out that 'Abdu'l-Bahá spoke little English and Ives no Persian. Ives would not be dissuaded. He was, he said, very tired of words.

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When the Master arrived, Ives managed only a glimpse of Him over a shoulder at a crowded gathering in a friend's home: a cream-colored fez, white hair flowing almost to the shoulders, and an unforgettable majesty combined with exquisite courtesy. Before nine o'clock the very next morning, which meant an early start from where he lived, Ives was at the Hotel Ansonia, where the friends had reserved rooms for 'Abdu'l-Bahá.

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The large reception room was already full. Ives spoke to no one. He went to the window overlooking Broadway and turned his back on them all, wondering why he had come; he had no appointment and no reason to expect any attention. Then he heard a rustling through the room. A door opened across from him, and 'Abdu'l-Bahá appeared, saying farewell to a group of visitors.

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His eyes met Ives's. He smiled and beckoned, with a gesture Ives said no word but "lordly" could describe. Ives looked around, sure the gesture was meant for someone else, but no one was near, and again the Master beckoned. As Ives approached, 'Abdu'l-Bahá took his hand as if He had always known him, motioned everyone else out of the room, even His surprised interpreter, and closed the door. The wish Ives had voiced to Mills weeks before, and which Mills had repeated to no one, was fulfilled.

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Still holding his hand, the Master led him across the room toward two chairs by the window. Softly, in English, He told Ives that he was His very dear son. Ives could not have spoken a word. They sat knee to knee, and as 'Abdu'l-Bahá looked at him, Ives felt for the first time in his life truly seen, and the tears flowed.

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The Master wiped them away with His thumbs, telling him not to cry, that one must always be happy — and He laughed, a ringing, boyish laugh. They sat in a long silence, and a great peace came over Ives. Then 'Abdu'l-Bahá placed His hand on Ives's breast and said that it is the heart that speaks.

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In all that time, Ives writes, not a single sound came from him, and none was needed. At last the Master sprang up with another laugh, lifted him to his feet, swept him into an embrace so strong that his ribs cracked, kissed him on both cheeks, and led him to the door.

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> That is all. But life has never been quite the same since.

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*A retelling based on **Portals to Freedom** (Howard Colby Ives, George Ronald, 1937), chapter 1. For the fuller account, see the original.*

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