encounter

In *Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era*, Esslemont preserves the famous 1890 account by the Cambridge orientalist Edward Granville Browne — the only Westerner ever to record his impressions of meeting Bahá'u'lláh. The short paragraph was written in plain academic English. It has never been surpassed.

Esslemont's *Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era* records the surprising recognition of the Bahá'í Faith by Count Leo Tolstoy in his last decade — the great Russian novelist who corresponded with Bahá'í teachers and praised the Faith in letters that reached far beyond the small Russian Bahá'í community of his lifetime.

On April 10, 1911, in Alexandria, Egypt, Louis G. Gregory — the African American lawyer from Washington who would later be named a Hand of the Cause — entered 'Abdu'l-Bahá's reception room for the first time. His pilgrimage notes preserve the kiss on the head, the question about his health, and the silence into which a long journey suddenly settled.

In *The Diary of Juliet Thompson* the painter records the evening in 1912 when 'Abdu'l-Bahá visited her dying friend Marjorie Morten in her sickroom — and the strange peace that, by the next morning, had taken the place of the household's prepared grief.

In *The Diary of Juliet Thompson* the painter records an evening in New York in the summer of 1912 when, after one of the great public meetings, she found herself walking beside 'Abdu'l-Bahá through the dark streets — and the silence in which the most carrying conversations sometimes pass.

In June 1912 in New York, the painter Juliet Thompson was given an unprecedented privilege: 'Abdu'l-Bahá agreed to sit for her. The Diary preserves the moment He stopped her on the street, took her hand, and said *come tomorrow and paint;* and the cramped basement studio where He asked her to paint not the man but the *Servitude.*

In *The Diary of Juliet Thompson* the young American painter records her first encounter with 'Abdu'l-Bahá in Paris in 1901 — a small upstairs room, a single Persian voice, and a recognition that would, in time, organise the rest of her life.

In *The Diary of Juliet Thompson* the painter records a small scene in New York in 1912 when, having confessed to the Master one of her own besetting sins, she expected reproof — and received instead the quiet laughter that, in His mouth, was the most disarming form of mercy.

Mahmúd's Diary records 'Abdu'l-Bahá's days in Boston in late July and August 1912, including His talk at the Free Religious Association and the unusually warm reception of Boston's Unitarian ministers. Boston, the city of Emerson and the Transcendentalists, recognised in the Master a kindred root.

Mahmúd's Diary records that during the May 1912 visit to Boston, 'Abdu'l-Bahá addressed audiences at Harvard University in Cambridge — including a memorable open-air talk on the lawn before Sanders Theatre when the hall could not accommodate the crowd that had come.

Mahmúd's Diary preserves the moment in early June 1912 at a Unity Club gathering in Brooklyn when Admiral Robert E. Peary, the polar explorer, unexpectedly invited 'Abdu'l-Bahá to address the room — though the Master had been there only as a guest. The talk, given without notes, brought the distinguished gathering to a complete stillness.

Mahmúd's Diary records that on the journey from Chicago to Washington in early November 1912, the Master's train made a long change of cars at Cincinnati. Word had been telegraphed ahead. A small group of Ohio believers came to the station for the hour the train was held there.

Mahmúd's Diary records the spring of 1912 when 'Abdu'l-Bahá travelled west of the Alleghenies for the first time, holding meetings in Cleveland and Pittsburgh and then continuing to Chicago. In Pittsburgh the smoke of the steel mills hung over the talks; in Cleveland the believers gathered in private homes.

Mahmúd's Diary preserves the final weeks of July and the opening weeks of August 1912, when 'Abdu'l-Bahá retired from the cities of the East Coast to the small artists' colony at Dublin, New Hampshire. The mornings were spent in dictation; the afternoons in walks through pine and fir; and the evenings in talks for the summer residents who came up the road to listen.

Mahmúd's Diary records that during the New York stays of 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá would occasionally direct His carriage to the small Syrian-Lebanese quarter of Lower Manhattan, where He would dine in modest immigrant restaurants and speak Arabic with the proprietors and patrons.

Mahmúd's Diary preserves, alongside the public talks, the ordinary domestic hours of 'Abdu'l-Bahá's American journey: the meals He ate, the way He served the friends with His own hand, the laughter He brought to a tired room, the way He cleared the table afterwards.

Mahmúd's Diary preserves a recurring theme of the 1912 American tour: the Master's particular attention to the children who came with their parents to the meetings. He would pause the proceedings to greet them. He would set them on His knee. He would ask their names, kiss their cheeks, and send them away with a sweet from His pocket.

Mahmúd's Diary records that on September 9, 1912, after the intensity of His talks at Buffalo, 'Abdu'l-Bahá was driven to Niagara Falls. He stood for a long time at the lookout, said little, and afterward observed that the roar of the falling water was a kind of prayer.

Mahmúd's Diary records that on the evening of April 19, 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá interrupted His program of formal receptions to go in person to the Bowery Mission in New York. He spoke to four hundred poor men, distributed coins to each from His own hand, and returned to His hotel near midnight.

In *Portals to Freedom* Howard Colby Ives recounts an evening in May 1912 when, having sat through one of the great public meetings, he was invited into the Master's private room for a small cup of tea — and a quiet conversation that addressed, without his having spoken them, the very fears he had carried in.

In *Portals to Freedom* Howard Colby Ives describes a Sunday afternoon in 1912 when 'Abdu'l-Bahá received the believers in a small New Jersey garden — and the way the smell of lilies, the ordinary furniture of the house, and the laughter of children combined into what Ives later called the *fragrance* of the Cause.

In *Portals to Freedom* Howard Colby Ives describes the Sunday morning in 1912 when he invited 'Abdu'l-Bahá to speak from his own Unitarian pulpit in Brooklyn — and the strange experience of standing in his own church and watching his own congregation be addressed by the man whose presence had reorganised his ministry from within.

In *Portals to Freedom* Howard Colby Ives describes the first morning in April 1912 when, summoned to the Ansonia Hotel in New York, he climbed the stair and entered the room where 'Abdu'l-Bahá was receiving — and found that all the arguments of his Unitarian ministry suddenly fell silent.

A short story preserved by Hand of the Cause Furutan in *Stories of Bahá'u'lláh*: an aged believer who set out on foot from Persia to attain the presence of Bahá'u'lláh in 'Akká, and the welcome that met him at the door when he arrived, exhausted, decades younger in his soul.

In March 1913 the Star of the West printed an obituary for Leslie Armstrong of Montreal — a small boy whose hands the Master had filled with fruit during the 1912 Canadian visit, on whose head the Master had laid His hand, and to whom He had said: *He will be a shining light for God.* The child died at age six from injuries in an automobile accident.

In *Ten Days in the Light of 'Akká* Julia Grundy preserves a private audience with 'Abdu'l-Bahá near the end of her 1905 pilgrimage. He spoke with her about her spiritual progress, told her she would become a source of guidance to others, and consoled her with a promise that has carried many pilgrims home: *you will never be absent now.*