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Epilogue I am far from thinking that the present small book might give a complete idea of the individuality of the Master Beinsa Douno. Even if all volumes of lectures, which he held during his work on earth, be read, if the reader is not psychologically prepared for a spiritual awakening and understanding, the Word of the Master will remain unintelligible, his individuality - strange and unknown. There are no coincidences! All that I have just narrated to you happened in order that it might be written down as a short page of the Master's manifestation, so that he be sought out and found by those for whom the hour of spiritual awakening has come. And when they find him, they may start work on the culture of the new humanity which will live in the light of Divine LOVE, WISDOM and TRUTH. MP. Sofia The Summer of 1967

My Last Meeting With The Master November 1944. We had just returned after having been evacuated. Sofia was slowly coming back to normal life. Our family was not directly affected by the bombings but the general misfortune acted on me depressively and from the school I went straight home. I didn't go to Izgrev either, because I knew that the Master did not always come down to the Hall but sometimes asked Brother Simeonov to read the lecture. When I longed to see him (whoever has been near the Master knows the longing for the ethereal atmosphere of serenity that streamed from him), I took a paper bag with fruit and went to Izgrev, ran up the stairs and knocked softly at the door. He opened it, and happy to have a glimpse of him I said: "Master, the Sun is sending you its best wishes and sweet smile." I handed him the paper bag. His bearing and his bright eyes inspired me. I kissed his hand, and refreshed almost flew down the stairs, down the road and went home on two tramways. Thus the time passed-at the school, at home and sometimes for a minute or two at the Master's. "Are you always so much occupied and in such a hurry?" the Master asked very seriously of me when I was just ready to fly back down the stairs. "No, Master, I am not occupied, at the moment we are even on vacation. When would you like to see me?" I asked rather embarrassed, seeing that the Master wished to tell me something and was not pleased that I was always in a hurry. "Come tomorrow at eight in the morning." "All right. Master, I thank you very much." This time the Master was very serious and thoughful. The next morning exactly at eight o'clock I knocked at his door. Sister Slavka opened it and behind her was the Master in his gray cloak, with snow white muffler around his neck and a white hat on his head. "Solely the Divine Love!" I saluted with upraised hand and added at once, "Master, shall I build the fire in the reception room so that it won't be cold when you come down?" He did not answer me but lightly started down the stairs and I followed him. He unlocked the door. Both of us took some fire wood and kindling from the passage and entered into the reception room. He bent down and began arranging the wood in the stove. I squatted nearby wishing to help him. "You, Milka, do you know how to build a fire?" he asked in a very friendly manner, continuing to arrange the fire wood. "No, Master, I don't know how to build a fire." "Now observe and later on you will build it. LEARN TO BUILD A FIRE-IT SHINES AND WARMS," the Master said. Then he lighted a match and a brigh fire blazed up in the white porcelainous stove. The Master sat on his chair by the table and I on one of the chairs by the window. Master and pupil . . . The Master looked at me, he saw and knew the meaning of this meeting. I looked, saw not and understood not . . . "Are. you coming to the lectures?" he started the conversation. I looked for an excuse and began by saying that I was too downcast by the bombings and had no wish to go anywhere. But in fact the real reason was that the Master did not come down to the Hall for the lectures. "Feel yourself free. When you don't feel like it, don't come, but know that you have only one Izgrev. Here must be your oasis to rest in. When you get tired in the city, come up to Izgrev. And remember that the lectures are attended by bright Beings from whom you will derive only benefit." He spoke to me in a fatherly way and continued with such a wonderful expression on his face that I could never describe it: "Hear me: Being a pupil, take for your measure the highest ideal, but when you are receiving material benefits measure with another measure. If you wish to be happy on earth always aspire for the smallest, be grateful for the smallest and retain for yourself the smallest. I was the happiest man on earth because in the material world I was grateful for the smallest, aspired for the smallest and retained for myself the smallest. A lot of material things passed through my hands-money, gold, acres of land, but I always retained for myself the smallest." In the room it was quiet and mysterious, as in eternity. The fire burned and the blazing wood warmed the room. The air was full of his words. I felt myself submerged in a divine current which was as balsam to my soul. I have no words with which to describe the softness and the light of that atmosphere-the Master's aura. Some minutes passed by in silence. I felt that something was happening . . . without words . . . without tears ... a Master and a pupil were parting on earth ... He looked and saw and knew! I looked and did not see and did not know . . . The Master looked at his watch. I got up to go. At the last minute, standing by the door, the Master petted me on the head and whispered. "IF YOU WISH TO BE HAPPY ON EARTH ALWAYS ASPIRE FOR THE SMALLEST, RETAIN FOR YOURSELF THE SMALLEST AND BE GRATEFUL FOR THE SMALLEST." I kissed his hand and not knowing why, I held it with both of mine and kissed it three times. After that the door of the reception room was opened and we went out. The day was cold, dreary . . . sorrowful. There was only one bright ray on the mountain top that connected earth with heaven. The Master climbed up the stairs and I started down towards the city.

The Elegant Table I was walking on the road to Izgrev. The snow crunched under the soles of my shoes but I felt no cold. Happily I was carrying on my shoulders a small table; and in my hands, its two glass plates. It was late in the evening and the road was lonely. Only the moon looked down on me through the high tops of the pine trees and seemed to participate in my happiness. I was carrying a table for the Masterr-a modern elegant table on wheels. I thought it would be more comfortable for him to have his meals on it. Under his own table were always paper-bags full of fruit and I had noticed that he didn't sit very comfortably at it. And having enough money to order a writing desk for myself, I ordered the small table for him - elegant and well polished. When I reached Izgrev, I hid myself in the hazel-bushes just opposite the Hall, afraid that someone might see me. There was a light up in the Master's room. The steps leading to it were lighted too. I gathered up all my courage, ran across the yard and up the stairs, and knoked at his door. He opened it a bit and looked out. "Master, excuse me for troubling you at such a late hour but I am bringing you a small table." Smiling he opened the door wide and invited me into the lobby. There I placed the glass plates on the table and demonstrated that it was on wheels and could very easily be moved around. I was very happy, thinking that The Master would be pleased, and 1 explained to him that it would be more comfortable to have his meals on it instead of on the old one. The Master calmly accepted my happiness and tenderly told me: "Thank you very much for your gift. This table is really very nice and it would be very good to serve the guests on it. And for ill person it is very comfortable too." 1 don't remember the other details but the Master and I took the table down to the reception room. We put it behind a screen. "Here it will stay, in the place of honour for the guests," he said. I was very unpleasantly surprised and thought that if I had known that he would not himself have his meals on it, I would have retained it for myself. But I said nothing and we went out of the reception room. Once, more I excused myself for coming so late but explained that I didn't want anybody to see me. I kissed his hand and went off. Once, on a visit to the Master, he treated me with some fruit on that same table. I heard some people say that the Master was serving them fruit on a very nice and elegant table. Years passed. The Master passed beyond. The council of the Brotherhood chose brother M.I. to take care of the Master's possessions. He was an unusually careful and honest man. I was a friend of the family and he invited me sometimes to help him in dusting and ventilating the rooms. Once, while we were dusting the reception room and I myself was dusting the elegant table, the thought again crossed my mind that if I had known that the Master would not like my table and would not eat on it, I would have retained it for myself. Several minutes later brother M.I. said: "Take this table and have your meals on it." I felt very embarrassed and explained that I myself had given the table to the master. "Never mind, take your table!" insisted brother M.I.. This was very unusual, for he never permitted anybody even to touch the belongings of the Master. "Take it! To-night I will bring it home and you will take it from there," he continued to insist, and I felt as if the Master himself were talking to me through his lips. Without further explanation, Brother M.I. took the small elegant table to his home and one evening I took it home. That same table is still in my room and on it is the picture of the Master, reminding me of the possibilities of a Master's thought. I understood that today, when he is not anymore with us on earth, our Master can hear us and communicate his thoughts to us.

The Story Of My Piano When moving from Varna to Sofia, among a lot of other things my piano had to be sold. In the capital I played now and then on the pianos of my friends and cherished the hope that one day I would again have a piano of my own. Years passed. Being young, I worked with enthusiasm. A "Manual for Kindergarten Teachers," written by me, was published. My younger sister and brother graduated and began earning their own living, so that I had the chance to save money for a piano. I managed to buy a good and not too expensive one. My first thought, when I found it, was to go to the Master and ask him whether to buy it and where to put it if I bought it. This last question was very important because, at that time, I myself was living in the small house of a sister at Izgrev and was working in an"experimental kindergarten" in the center of the city and very often we had students and guests to show them model lectures and new ways of working. My parents lived far away at the other end of the city, but I was negotiating for a house for all of us near the school in which I was teaching. That is why I asked the Master: Where shall I place the piano? He replied very definitely: "I say, take it to your mother's home." "But Master, I shall soon take a house near the school, isn't it better to take it now to the school?" I began to explain things to him in detail. "I say, take it to your mother's home," he repeated quietly. "Yes, Master, but I want to include more music in my work with the children, isn't it better to take it to the school?" I continued to insist. "Take it to your mother's home." the Master said a third time. "I rarely stay at mother's, and who will play on it then?" I continued to be stubborn and to argue. "I say, take it to your mother's home," for a forth time he told me very quietly and very kindly. "It is very far away, Master, and I want to put more music in my work with the children," I continued to insist, not realizing that there was no need of my asking him, if I had already formed a definite opinion on the subject. "Eh, you can take it then to the school," he said at last condenscendingly, without raising the tone of his voice. Much gratified that I had asked the Master, with his approval, so to say, I took the piano to the school. All that happened in the autumn of 1942. During the year my work with the children was ideal. I talked to them not only with words but with chords and melodies too. The piano was my most precious possession and I thought that it was blessed and inviolable. Therefore, when, during the next year, restless days began and foreign airplanes crossed over the country and alarms were sounded, I carried and piled behind the piano all possessions dear to me-some books, manuscripts and even a pair of new blue shoes. Alarms became oftener and were followed by bombing of the city. On the morning of January 10, 1944 I was in school although the children were on vacation. I played the piano and once again I derived pleasure from its wonderful tones. Then an alarm was given. I got up, looked calmly around the room and went out quickly. Mother was all alone and sick and I had to hurry home. I reached home just in time-а minute or two before the bombing started. The center of the city was aimed at and it was quite horrible. In the evening there was a new alarm and more heavy bombing. We decided, like most of the citizens of the capital, to move to some village. Being the biggest sister, I remained at home to pack for the evacuation and my younger sister and brother went to receive their salaries. I asked them to go also to the school and move the piano to the inner wall and cover it with the big heavy carpet. In the evening sister and brother excused themselves that they had no time to go to the school to take care of my piano. I was greatly displeased at their carelessness towards me. The next morning helping mother and dragging a sleigh on which our luggage was heaped, we all went to the station and boarded the train. There everybody was telling incidents of the last two severe bombings of the city. Someone, just behind me, was saying: "And the school, the one near the church St. Sedmochislenitzi is in ruins too." I turned to the man: "Which school?-the high school or ... " "No, not the high school but the kindergarten." I felt I was growing pale and I asked again, hoping against hope that after all my piano was not ruined: "Which part of the building was destroyed?" "That part with the cock - the sun-dial. The building is cut in half as if with an immense knife," the man explained, "and four men of the gas-defence met their death there." I heard all this and turned towards my family. Mother, my aunt, sister and brother were all looking at me wondering how I would take it. Sister and brother had been to the school the day before and had seen the situation but had not had the courage to tell me the truth. At that moment the train stopped at a station. People came in and offered food to the refugees. A man stood at the door of our compartment carrying a tray with bread and glasses of milk. And when I was almost ready to burst into tears because of the ruined piano, a child's cry was heard behind me and a woman's hand stretched out towards the bread and the milk. "We have not eaten for two days, that is why he is crying," the mother explained in a weak voice. On my left, a very old woman with a shaky hand was lifting a glass of water to her chapped thirsty lips. And I was going to cry over my ruined piano! over an inanimate thing! Well, I shall become a model-teacher in some village without any piano! Not the conditions make the man, but the man - the conditions! I took myself in hand and asked my brother, as calmly as I could, why he didn't tell me the truth yesterday. He explained that he could not manage to make himself tell me that he had seen only the top of the piano thrown out on the yard. We went to a small village. The villagers were very kind and rendered us the necessary help. On the third day I started work with their children. About the end of January I went back to Sofia. I had to take some more luggage to the village, and I wanted to see the Master who, I learned, had been evacuated to the village of Murchaevo, very near the capital. The train stopped at the central station of Sofia about 5 p.m. It was almost dark when I reached the school. I saw the top of my piano thrown out on the yard, itself in pieces and the entire half of the school-building destroyed. On one of the steps of the stairs leading to my schoolroom I saw a book. I picked it up. It was "The Master on Education." I wondered how only that book was left untouched by the destruction, and I put it in my bag. All the big buildings around the kindergarten were in ruins and the sight was very desolate. Then I went to Izgrev. No bomb had fallen. There were no ruins but there were also no people. Only the small house of brother Ivan was lighted. He and his wife were in. I spent the night with them and early in the morning, loading a sleigh with food, we started to Murchaevo. Passing through the city was a rueful sight but when we went out of it and took the road to Murchaevo it began to snow and, as if sensing my impatience to see the Master, the horse drew the sleigh more quickly. We came to the house of Brother Temelko, the sleigh stopped, we jumped off, and the "Master was waiting for us at the steps. One of his first questions was: "What happened to the piano?" "It is all in pieces. Master. Everything is under the ruins." And I explained how all this was due to the great bomb that had exploded just outside the wall of my schoolroom. "I say, gather its parts." the Master said. I looked at him in surprise. He evidently had no conception of the ruins in the city, I thought. "Oh, Master, if only I had listened to you then and taken the piano to mother's home! You insisted but it seems my head is too thick." The Master did not confirm my disobedience: he calmly repeated: "Gather its parts." A week later I went to the village where my family was evacuated and where we lived for the time being. During the next month - February - I went again to Sofia. And every time I went to Murchaevo to see the Master, he asked me if I had gathered the parts of the piano. 1 went to the school again but there was no pianoonly ruins. When I came for the third time to the capital, in the month of March, I stayed for a longer period, saw the Master more often and even spent two nights at Murchaevo. "I say, gather the parts of the piano," he told me very calmly several times. Out of respect for his old age, I decided to obey. I went to the school, looked around carefully and to my surprise saw that the men from the bomb-defence group had put aside the keys and the two pedals. After two days I went again and found its back part with the lyre and some other boards. So I hired a cart and loaded all the parts of the piano and took them to my mother's home, as the Master has told me two years ago. Before I went back to the village I told the Master that I had taken the parts of the piano to my mother's home. He was very pleased but said nothing. When we came back from the evacuation and the normal life of the city was resumed, a man restored my piano. I still have it in my house and play on it the songs of the Master. How little did I know him!

Miss Not Your Own Train Leaning on a rock by the Second Lake in the Rila Mountains, I was observing how peacefully and lovely the Master talked to those who went to him. I was awaiting my turn too. In front of his tent there was a platform made of white stones where at a simple wooden table with small chairs aronnd it, he received his guests. It seemed to me that heaven and earth had an appointed tryst at the Second Rila Lake. My turn was next when a sister came by and asked me to speak only for a minute to the Master before me. "Well, yes!" I said politely and stepped aside. While she was still speaking to the Master, another one came and made the same request. I had no special work, so it seemed the most natural thing for me to give up my turn again. While the Master was talking to her, I walked slowly on the path that led to his tent. When I was almost there, another sister walked by me and not even taking motice of me, passed in front and stood before the Master with her question. Thus I became the fourth. The moment I stepped on the white stone platform, the Master looked at me seriously and said: "Do not miss your own train! Another will come and you will board it but that which was predestined for you will go to those who took the first train. I understood that he spoke thus because I yielded my turn to the others, but I thought it concerned only this case. I thanked the Master for his attention to me and continued expressing my admiration that in ten days I was able to gather strength for the whole year. "At this height one disconnects oneself from material things and the soul gets a rest. Tomorrow I shall go back to work in the kindergarten and it seems to me as if I will go back from another world. We all thank you, Master, for bringing us here every summer!" I went back to Sofia and to my work. The everyday cares enveloped me, and days, months and years passed by in labor and cares. I attained my ends, but with great effort, always in the last minute when I was tired out in the fight and accepted the achievement with no joy. I began prematurely to get tired. Once, talking with the Master, I shared with him my grief that everything was so difficult and brought so much hardship into my life. "Master, I run all day long, work like a beast of burden, when shall I be merry?" The Master smiled and said: "Every man comes on earth with some favorable opportunities which he must make use of on time and in place. If you let the opportunity go by, you lose. Man is a collective being connected with the'sun and the whole solar system. He comes on earth with the impetus and the tendency to move forward and upward. But 80% of the people on earth realize themeselves only as individuals and wish to master Nature. Today humanity walks on the path of experience which is a path of suffering. It is not a bad path but the attainments and joys will be achieved much more easily if man feels himself a collective being, a spark from the Eternal Life and if he makes use of the favorable opportunities on time, when they come to him and call on him." "Listen to me: If man makes timely use of the sun's rays, the fresh air and the pure water; if he correctly satisfies his hunger, and not his taste, with the necessary fresh and pure food in order to get and utilize the organic nourishing energies of the food; if he timely listens to God's voice that speaks to him: get up, go and work-if all that were being done, do you know that there would be no starving, sick, poor and unhappy people on earth." "Now I want to tell you: don't you complain that your life is hard and difficult. The good chances which Nature offers you, you alone let them slip by and run after the last train. I told you: Miss not your own train! Start working on yourself with the smallest of quantities but work seriously, continuously, with no limited period of time-but until you achieve. When you begin working on one virtue, begin living with its influence and work unceasingly, work until corresponding cells be reconstructed in your own body. That means work!'" "Always have a wide awake consciousness, be wise and come near to the reality of life." "And what is reality, Master?" "Real is Love, real is Wisdom, real is Truth. The man of the new culture that is coming will have opened eyes and will live with the principles of those realities. Today man's culture and science are in their swaddling clothes, they are in the go-cart. A time will come when everybody will be able to visit the Moon, the Sun and the rest of the planets. But work is necessary, work and time . . . . " "You have wonderful knowledge, Master!" "You begin with the smallest things. Don't miss your own train. Everywhere and all the time be awake and careful." "Thank you, Master. Your words are spiritual milk to us and with them I feel you are trying to prepare us for the new culture that is being born on earth." In my notebook I put down the date of this talk with the Master: August 10th, 1938 . . . and I pondered long over his words . . . pondered and was grateful.

The Bible The Master always came to lectures in the Hall with a Bible in one hand. He began by reading a chapter or at least a verse from the Bible. In one of his lectures he assigned us the task of studying the Bible - Old and New Testaments. I knew that the Master did not ask this from us just by chance - he surely had a good reason for it-but for me personally it was very hard to read this thick book in which I had no interest and no understanding. Some of the stories in there seemed to me stupid and some even too immoral. Several times I started reading it and after some pages put it aside . . . after a time I started it again, and again laid it aside after several pages, etc. I knew that the first published book of the Master-"The Testament of the Colored Rays"contains verses from the Old and the New Testaments. I had heard older pupils say that it is a sacred book and that it contains the keys to life. All that made me think of the Bible but with no wish to read it. Once, talking with the Master, I dared tell him: "Master, I want to read the Bible but it is not interesting to me, even . . . " The Master interrupted me so that I would not voice a negative thought. "Listen to me: Every pupil must study life as a whole as well as the life of the individual human being. Reading the books of the Bible you will study the character of each of the personages described therein. For instance what is the main characteristic of Abraham?-his obedience. He left his father and mother and went to Egypt to study. It is necessary that you read consciously and try to understand. In order to accomplish a certain task it is necessary that man assigns to himself a nearer aim. Time passed. I don't remember how many times I started and left off reading that big book. Then once there came to me the idea of studying the Bible and rendering it in stories for children. Now I had an impulse and at the new crescent of the moon I started reading the Bible again. Now I read it more carefully because I had an idea, an aim in mind. Sometimes, but not very often, for which I am very sorry now, I turned to the Master for special explanations. "Try to understand the inward meaning of each of the books. The first book is Genesis - the beginning of things. The second - Exodus - going out. The third-Leviticus - an instruction-book for those who had begun to walk. The fourth-Numbers-estimating the time in which man could learn to walk alone. Deuteronomy-when there is law, application is necessary. Then comes the book of Joshua, one of the heroes who had studied under Moses. Judges - there is something deep in the appearance of Judges. The book of Ruth tells about the influence of woman in the world. Then come the books of Kings-Samuel I and II; Kings I and II. The most famous of the kings are Solomon and David. In the time of Solomon, culture reached its full growth. He was a wise man but he entangled himself within the heart of woman. Solomons still exist on earth; and that question-of woman-is not yet solved. Adam, about whom it is written in Genesis, also couldn't pass his exam on this same question-woman. The books of the Prophets bring a different culture to mankind. They turn man's attention towards a future life, towards the new culture of the world. "Reading the Bible consciously, you will understand that the life of the past, described in this book, is the life of the single individual too. Every person passes through Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, etc. The wise, the new man must break off with the past and must acquire a new way of life." In another discussion the Master gave me the following explanations. "Adam and Eve are not individuals-they are whole generations. If man wants to acquire a blessing, he must work on himself and must achieve some results. Adam prematurely wanted to have a wife. The first men were hasty and the Jews were hasty too. In the person of Moses and Jews made the same error. Moses had knowledge but he was hasty in applying it for the liberation of the Jews from the Egyptians. He tried to free them in an incorrect way, and didn't succeed. After he killed an Egyptian, he became afraid and ran into the desert where he lived for forty years. When did Moses lose his eloquence and become a snuffer? - When he killed the Egyptian. Moses was an Adept, a member of the White Brotherhood and it was not permisible for him to kill. In order to fulfil his mission, God sent him his brother Aaron to help him. Moses freed the Jews but he himself could not enter the land of Canaan." In another talk on the Bible the Master said: "Each Psalm contains the situations and experiences of David. Take out the essence of each Psalm. There are important and forceful Psalms which conceal within their verses strength and light. "When you read the Prophets - Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekielcompare their characters and the conditions in which they worked. Do not read hastily but read and reread carefully. Many laws are given in the Bible and you will acquire much light through reading it. In each book you will find the manifestation of some law enlightening the path of humanity." With these explanations the Master directed me to read with care and interest this thick book - the Bible. I read the Old Testament four times, took down notes and rendered it in 33 stories for children. When I came to the New Testament, I decided to buy also some additional books on the subject. Among others I bought a translation of Charles Dickens' "The Life of Jesus." I liked it immensely and decided that I could not express it better than had that great author and therefore I read the New Testament without the aim of re-stating it for children. I am very grateful to the Master that with his help I could understand at least some of the mysteries of life described in The Bible.

The Master Healed In Miraculous Ways Many instances were described in which the Master healed persons. A brother - Sl.P - had been ill from malaria. The Master, learning that, had sent him a glass of water and after he drank it all in small sips he was healed. A sister told me the following. A friend of hers, also a pupil of the Master, became very ill. She sent her to Izgrev to ask the Master what to do in order to get well. The Master listened to her very carefully, then calmly replied: your friend will get well; tell her to believe in goodness. After she waited another minute or two to hear something more real, the Master added: "Real are only the facts." And he had turned and walked into the garden. That sister returned to her sick friend and told her what the Master had said. But the miracle was that while she had been talking with the Master, her sick friend had already become better. One day later she felt perfectly healthy and went herself to thank the Master. Similar cases are well known and described by many, but I am one of those persons who prefer personal facts. The Master had taught me to be friends with the wind and the frost, and my small attainments in this respect helped me not to catch cold, and to be healthy. Anyway, it happened that now and then I was ill too. Once I had acute tonsillitis. Instead of going to a doctor, I went up to Izgrev and marched up and down the platform in front of the Hall waiting for the Master to come. He came from the lawn. I went up to him and told him that I was ill, and I asked what I must do to get well. He stopped, looked at me and said: "It will pass off quickly. Drink much hot water and massage a bit around your neck. And when you go out wear a scarf. That is all." I thanked him and started back towards the city. On the way home I already felt better. In the evening I drank several glasses of hot water, massaged my neck a bit and in the morning I was healthy again. This fact of healing my acute tonsilitis in just one evening astonished my family which had been arguing with me to call in the doctor. It showed me also how the Master could heal.

A Sacred Hour This happened in the time of my spiritual childhood - in the year 1938. I knocked at the door of the Master's reception room. After quite a long pause he opened the door himself and without a word from him I understood that I might enter. While I was taking off my shoes in the lobby, he went in and sat at the table and as soon as I too sat down, he began to speak: "Life is the strongest aspiration of the human soul. Life is the aim, knowledge-а means to attain that aim, and God is the environment, the conditions from which forces can be obtained. Every living thing needs environment and conditions in which to grow and develop. The environment of the human soul is God. Mind and heart are preparatory environments through the medium of which the soul receives life. The Soul is submerged into the Universal Divine Consciousness. The first thing necessary for man is to learn to love God and this love will connect him with Him and will make him happy. Do not seek the responsibility for the things that happen, just study and acquire knowledge. It is not enough to know about the new life, it is necessary that you live it. And if a man decides to think only positive thoughts for one year-he will do miracles. Make the experiment only for one year to temper your will: whenever evil thoughts assail you, drive them away and retain only the good, positive thoughts and feelings. And there will be no obstacle which will not be subdued by your will. "In order to grow and develop correctly the soul needs inward spiritual food which can be supplied only through prayer. The nobility of the human soul depends on man's thoughts about God. Think of God as an essence that flows through you. Outside of God nothing exists. "There is no greater thing in human life than prayer, it is communion with God, with the Initial Cause. Through prayer we become instruments of higher forces which support the whole of humanity. "The fragrance of the flowers is their prayer. And if you have to pray, leave aside your personal affairs and interests and think only about God. If you wish your prayer to be accepted by God, it must be directed only towards Him." While the Master was thus speaking, his face shone and his voice was like bubling living waters. I had never felt the strength of his words as I felt it at that time. There was an unknown fragrance in the room and the feeling of strange presences. I listened breathlessly and wrote down and knew not what I wrote nor why I wrote. Then the Master took out a small leather suitcase, put it on the table and opened it. He showed me the instrument he had used and the drawings he had made of his phrenological investigations on the Bulgarian nation done in 1900. In the way in which he opened and smoothed down each drawing and told me of how he had gone from city to city, I understood that this work was very dear to him. "Master, why don't you popularize these investigations of yours? They contain much valuable data!" "I have finished my task for the Bulgarian nation. One thing must be known: Each idea-great or small - has its own time for realization. In order to popularize some theory there must be people ready to apply it. Men are still little children. There is nobody who would listen, and listening, would understand. There must be no haste. Nothing is being lost. Everything awaits its own time. Men will become hungry and will begin to look for spiritual food. A time will come when humanity will look for the milk of the word and then the incomprehensible will be understood. Every theory awaits its day. For God there is no time and space, there is only continuous Life-Reality which builds up and mounts upward. I felt that God Himself was speaking through the lips of the Master in that sacred hour for those who have ears to hear. When he stopped speaking, just for a moment he closed his eyes. After that he stood up and our eyes met. No word was pronounced by either; I kissed his hand with awe and went out. He remained in the reception room. I put the copy book in my handbag and walked towards the city with the feeling that I was coming back from another world.

The New Man At the time I was writing the second volume of my collection of "Plays with Songs for Children," I wanted to include in it some of the Master's excercises or songs but I felt that I was obliged to ask his permission for that. So I went up to Izgrev and waited my turn near the reception room. "Master, will you permit me to insert some of your excercises in my book or to accompany some of the songs with special movements?"' "When will the book be published?" was his first question. "Probably in a month's time." "I will give you some special excercises." After these words the Master closed his eyes for several minutes. I watched perplexed: was he thinking or was he tired and had fallen asleep? I couldn't understand, I just stood still and dared not move. After a while he looked at me, got up from his chair and said: "Write down!" And he himself began rhythmic easy movements, explaining: "Each movement is an attraction of forces. If the movements are done correctly, with the required rhythm, they will develop many virtues in the children. That one is for generosity ... the movements will attract some Beings of Light . . . Love ... Charity ... Faith . ..? Thus the Master demonstrated to me nine excercises and I wrote them down. After that he asked that I try them myself and simultaneously read what I had written. I thanked him saying that they were very agreeable and easy. "And what name shall I use for the author - Beinsa Douno or just "The Master?" I asked. '"You must first try them with the children. See if they like them and how they do them. The question of the authorship is not important, there is no need to write any author. The source is one and the same. If men reach up to that source they will always drink pure water. Movement and rhythmthis is a harmony of forces! Rhythmic movements made to the accompaniment of music can do miracles! 'When Nature awakens, the birds sing; In the beginning of each New Age men sing; When the world is recreated, the Angels sing.' This is from the oldest book of the world. Every virtue has its own type of movements. Experiments could be made in order to observe the influence of the various movements for imparting and receiving certain physical and psychic energies. All organs of the human body are connected with psychic processes. Some key - formulae, pronouced correctly and accompanied by movements and music, might have a tremendous influence. "When man consciously moves his legs and hands, he induces to activity the corresponding brain centers which attract to themselves more blood and energy-and energy is power! But this is theory-now you start practising those nine excercises with the children." The next morning I demonstrated the excercises to the children. They liked them very much and every morning since then we began our studies with the nine excercises named "Morning Gym - Serenity," At our school there were two student-teachers. They began playing "Serenity" with the children. I was happily surprised when one of the girls, after several days, told me that she had had a strong neuralgic headache for months but since she began the excercises with us, it disappeared and now she felt fresh and well. I reported to the Master the success of the excercises. He only smiled and said: "The new man will develop by way of rhythm and music. In him everything will be easy, rhythmic, harmonious, musical. A movement can create or destroy. Knowledge and light are necessary." Some months later when "Plays with Songs for Children" Part II, was published, in the book there was a section, "Nine Rhythmic Excercises for the Smallest."

When The Sun Awakes The Day From March 22nd to September 22nd and sometimes even up to the beginning of the autumn rains, each morning before sunrise the big lawn at Izgrev was full of men and women. Everyone stood quietly, concentratedly, and with prayer and thanksgiving welcomed the first rays of the sun. Then we all lined up in several rows and did the six daily excercises. Immediately after that the musicians with their instruments-violins, flutes and guitars - went to the middle of the lawn and we all formed a circle around them. Together with the Master, who was in the center of the circle, we did the paneurhytmy exercises, created by him, accompanied by the sound of the music, composed by himself. Thus, during that period every early morning in a circle around the Master, all of us - young and old, learned and uneducated, rich and poor, men and women - began the day with easy harmonious movements to the sound of most beautiful music. Sometimes people from the city came to look on, and often after the paneurhythmy was over, around seven o'clock, they came up to the Master with their questions. One morning, crossing the lawn on my way to the city, I saw that the Master was surrounded by a group. I came up and decided to listen as I still had ten to fifteen minutes before school hours began. Two persons, apparently coming for the first time to Izgrev, curious to know what was going on, were talking with the Master. The one asked: "What is the aim of these excercises and why do you do them so early in the morning, at such an inconvenient time?" "These excercises," the Master began, "can produce great results. If all the Bulgarians each morning consciously did paneurhythmy, no evil could befall the country. "It is high time that the whole of humanity changed its way of living," continued the Master. "Thousands and thousands of years nations have fought each other - and look at what they came to! "We are at the threshold of a new culture of Love which will bring brotherhood among all nations and people. The frontiers of States will be removed and all nations will live like brothers. I speak now of what is coming to pass!"' "And when will this come to pass?" asked on of the persons. "And how will it come about?" "Within Nature there is only development; time and space are human qualities. The new will come when the old has been lived to the full. First, a great broom will come that will sweep out all old ways, and old ideals, and new ones will arise in the hearts of men. Then the new culture of LOVE AND BROTHERHOOD will be established among all nations on earth. "We do the paneurhythmy in order to get in contact with the invisible helpers of all worlds and in this way ease the path of the Bulgarian nation. In life, governments must go hand in hand with the people. The new will come but isn't it better if it comes with less suffering and fewer victims? "Nature has an inexhaustible store of forces at the disposal of all intelligent persons. In the morning Nature gives out most abundantly. In the afternoon some other rays mingle with the sun's and thus sometimes during the afternoon they act even harmfully. "I say, don't crave to do great things. You better start with the small things-begin with serving goodness!" I wrote down the above in my notebook and began running towards the city where my work was already waiting for me. These thoughts, voiced by the Master, bear the date of June 15th, 1938.

May May of that year was really the month of flowers. The entire Izgrev smelled sweetly. Flowers, flowers, everywhere flowers - a symphony of colors and fragrance. It was early in the afternoon. A few friends were around the piano in the Hall of Izgrev. They were animatedly disputing about music when the door of the Hall opened softly and the Master, with light steps and in very joyous mood, came in and went towards the group. All were pleasantly surprised and welcomed him gladly I had an appointment with a friend in the Hall and having to wait, I went up to the group, too, took my notebook out of my hand bag and began to write down the very interesting interpretations which the Master was giving on music. "Argue not about unessential things. Music must be used as a means of self-education. It is a method by which virtues grow. Every tone is a seed which has to be implanted in order to manifest itself. "You accept singing as a method of concentration and a connection with the higher beings. When you sing concentratedly, you will penetrate into the vital force of each tone. "Learn to sing simply, correctly and with a concentrated mind. The occult music must be sung not as men sing - but as the angels sing. "Sing each excercise several times until you sense the pulse and the rhythm of the song. "Now, sing the song "God is Love." We all sang the song and the Master quietly played on his violin. "Heart and mind must participate in singing. The tenor has a relation to Jupiter and the alto - to Venus. The soprano attracts the solar energy and the bass-the terrestrial. Each tone is subject to certain laws and brings a specific influence. "The music of the future will make use of present methods plus the new ones which it will bring forth. The dynamic music is easily rendered but what about the light! You must learn how to harmonize the tones so that they generate light and warmth! The musicians have to know the vibrations of each tone. The basic tone "C" has 256 vibrations, half of which are positive and the other half-negative. "For the present you learn to sing and the laws of music will be disclosed to you by and by." Then the Master took up his violin and played "In the Dawn of Life." He played very, very softly - like an echo from the world of the angels; We listened with abated breath. It was a day in May 1938 ... .a wonderful May when the Master was with us!

Marvelous Like A Dream On a February night at Izgrev before a lecture by the Master, around one o'clock after midnight I locked the door of my wooden room and walked on the snowy path towards the Hall. Some minutes later the blue light from the Master's room clearly showed the well cleaned yard in front of the Hall. Like many other nights I went quietly in and sat by the burning stove. There was time enough before the lecture so that I could doze off a little. Red tongues of flame leaped out of the small hole in the door of the stove and scattered playful lights on the chairs lined up in the dark Hall, as if unseen beings discussed mysteriously in the night. It was warm and pleasant and after some minutes, or perhaps an hour, it became marvelous. The door of the Hall opened and with quick light steps the Master, with his violin in his hand, passed through the Hall between the rows of chairs and went up on the platform. He turned on the light, sat before the piano and tuned his violin. I feared he would see me and at once I squatted behind the stove. The Master began to play on the violin-he played wondderfully, marvelously, in an unearthly manner. Every tone sounded lively, rich, magical! I looked and listened and didn't believe my eyes and earsperhaps I was dreaming. I got a pin out of the lapel of my coat and pricked my finger-it hurt, I was not dreaming: all this marvel was a reality, a reality marvelous like a dream! At the end the Master struck several chords on the piano, closed it, turned off the light and taking his violin in one hand, walked back through the dark Hall and out of the door. Squatting, I moved around the stove so that he would not see me. For my own peace of mind, he - who saw things at great distances-pretended that he did not see me five feet away from him. When the door closed and 1 was alone, I sat again on the chair. The wonderful music from the Master's violin still sounded within my soul. In the morning the Master came to the Hall with his violin and lectured on music - the strength and color of tones. He illustrated his words by playing on his violin - he played wonderfully, but what I saw and heard the night before remained in my consciousness marvelous like a dream.

Feeding Is A Mathematical Problem The Master ate only simple, fresh, vegetarian food. He had his lunches in the Brotherhood's dining room and his breakfasts and suppers alone in his own room. In the course of 25-30 years I had the chance to observe that usually he prepared his morning and evening meals alone-potato soup or only some fruit. He ate slowly, with enjoyment, and in the evenings, as a rule, before the setting of the sun. From the Publishers that day I was hurrying up to Izgrev to show the Master my new book, "Plays with Songs for Children." It was nearing sunset and the Master received m^ up in his own room, where he was peeling potatoes. I told him all the details about the publishing of my book and he was happy because of my success. Somebody knocked at the door. A sister handed him a plate with caramel-cream. A bit upset, she was explaining something. The Master answered quietly and firmly but she pleaded again and again. The woman went out and putting aside on the cupboard the plate with the cream, he continued to peel the potatoes, I looked at the cupboard where, together with the cream, were some other delicious dishes and I naively asked: "Master, why don't you have the cream for supper, it looks so delicious? "Listen to what I tell you: that Sister wants me to do her a favor. If I eat from her cream, I bind myself and am obliged to do it, but in this case the right is not on her side. Each food gives us its energy. Not all pleasant food is useful. Feeding is a very important process and one must take good care of it. Do you like cream-caramel?" the Master asked me, and cutting a very big piece of it, he covered it lavishly with its own sweet sauce and handed it to me. Feeling a bit bashful and embarrassed, I ate it all with appetite, while the Master, sitting at the opposite side of the table, supped his own-made potato soup. "Choose pure and fresh food. Drink water from a pure fountain, make bread from fresh wheat and accept fruit only from good people. Eating transforms man's condition into positive or negative energies. Give from your food to the hungry and you will satisfy yourself well even with a little of it. Feeding is a mathematical problem which must be correctly solved. "If a man solves correctly the questions of his food and sleep, that shows that he has attained to a certain harmony between his emotions and his thoughts. When he attains this, he is ready to solve correctly all his remaining problems. Freshness and vigor are necessary for man's thought. And one of the very important factors of thought is food." Thus the Master spoke to me about food while we were supping together that far -off evening. Once I brought to the Master some very nice peaches. He was in front of the Hall, talking with several brothers and sisters. As usual I handed him the paper-bag with the words: "Master, the sun is sending you its best wishes." He smiled, thanked me and looked at the fruit. The peaches were so beautiful that everybody looked at them. He handed a peach to the sister who was nearest to him, then he gave a second to a brother, the third to the next and so on. He gave out all the peaches except one. Then he looked at me, smiled again and said: "For me I left the most and the best." I remembered his words: "Feed the hungry and the little that is left for you will be more than enough to satisfy you. The Master was always very consistent and always practised the things he taught.

He Saw From A Distance Soon after the Revolution in Russia, in the year 1923, an enthusiastic young man, by the name of Vassil, managed, through Germany, to go to the Soviet Union. During the first two years he was in regular contact with his family, then stopped writing. For twenty years his family knew nothing about him, whether he was alive or not. They tried to find out something about him through various persons and state embassies, with no results. One day I met his elder brother Nicholas. He was very sad and was of the opinion that his brother was not among the living. I was grieved for that really very nice young man and didn't want to believe that he was not alive. "Nicholas, I will go up to Izgrev and ask the Master about Vassil, perhaps he is still alive." Many years had passed in my listening to the Master's lectures and I firmly believed in his great ability. All this was strange and incomprehensible for me but the facts confirmed his unusual abilities. Therefore, I ran up to him in ever difficulty. He was for me a beacon in the tempestuous sea of life. For each occasion the Master found some bright and hopeful words, something positive and I knew that he would find a way to soften the grief of Vassil's family. "You may ask," Nicholas replied, "but now it is 1943 and Vassil went to the Soviet Union in 1923! If he were alive he would have written! Mother is almost on her death-bed for grief of him, he was her beloved child. Ask ..." he ended and tried to hide from me that his eyes became a bit moist. The next evening was an evening before a morning lecture and I went earlier to Izgrev. Several persons were waiting for the Master. I waited too. When my turn came, I asked him to spare me a few minutes. I knew he always had supper before sunset and I was ill at ease. "Please, excuse me! I am coming to you about a very important question." "Come in." The Master invited me to the reception room. "Master, the son of a family friendly to my family went by way of Germany to the Soviet Union in 1923. During the first two years he wrote home but later stopped writing altogether. And since then his family knows nothing about him. Please, tell me something about this soul!" The Master was listening to me attentively, then closed his eyes. I sat reverently on my chair. Some few minutes later he opened his eyes and said in a soft quiet voice: "He is alive. Tell his family that in two years time he will come back to them." I swallowed my breath for emotion, thanked him and went out. The next day I told his family. The mother, the two sisters of Vassil, and Nicholas received this news rather sceptically but a thin hope grew in them. Two years later, in 1945, Vassil came back and is now still living with his family. The Master's ability to see from a faraway distance was unlimited. There are many occasions narrated by other pupils of his, in which he even materialized himself to them in order to give them instructions in very hard and perilous moments of their lives. And he, our Master, continues to help us. The author of the present small book of big facts is preparing another small book giving experiences, occasions and facts about the help the Master gave us and is still rendering to us after he passed beyond.

The Angel's Choir It was a white night in February. Like every night before a lecture, I was at Izgrev, curled up in my bed, awaiting the hour when I could go to the Hall. When the cold increased very much, I gathered all my courage, got up, dressed as quickly as I could and several minutes later the frosty snow crunched under my footsteps. Nearing the Hall I heard a song coming from that direction. I thought that I was late and quickened my pace. The Hall was dark and empty, but the Master's room was lighted and from the balcony around it a beautiful song of tender angelic voices was streaming down ... an indescribable harmony of hundreds of voices ... Although I was not invited and had no permission, I listened in ecstasy. An angel's choir around the room of the Master! What a night! When the singing voices stopped, I went into the Hall and sat close to the stove, the wonderful angels' song still sounding in my consciousness. Years passed. I was having my summer vacation with the Brotherhood at the Rila Lakes. One afternoon I went for a walk to a farther lake called "The Twins." This lake was surrounded by a strange quietness and mysteriousness. I sat on the rock opposite the "Altar," the innermost side of the lake. There around the snowy ravine, formations looking like fossilized spirits were silently praying. They looked at themselves mirrored in the cold water of the lake and with patience awaited the day of their new birth. The soft wind tenderly caressed the surface of the water and small waves washed the shore, singing a soft song of gratitude. And in that mysterious and majestic quietness one saw himself only as a soul and unwittingly felt deeply grateful to the Everlasting. The soul listened to the voice of the silence and in meditation hovered between earth and heaven. During those sacred moments up there, before the "Altar," where the whiteness of the snow and the solidity of the rocks were in constant prayer, once again I heard the same choir which I had heard under the balcony of the Master in that faroff winter night. I got up and stood still, rapt in gratitude to heaven for the blessing that the curtain to the realm of the unseen was slightly raised for me. There, by that lake -The Twins - I heard for a second time that same angels' choir . . . and never again.

Be Careful When You Receive Favors The Master and the whole of the Brotherhood were having their summer vacation in the Rila Mountains, living there in tents. When I managed to get ten days leave of the school work, I prepared myself in a hurry and boarded the wagon that was taking food up the mountain to the camp of the Brotherhood. All sisters and brothers received me gaily. Sister K. asked me very politely if I had a tent to sleep in, and finding out that I didn't, she said: "I am all alone in my tent and it is quite a big one and we shall feel comfortable, the two of us." Some other sisters invited me, too, but I had already taken my luggage to her tent. Sister K. prepared a soft warm bed for me and took care of me like a, mother. She served me nice and delicious things to eat, and I, as in previous years, had brought little food, not having, as usual, enough money for that. I was really very well taken care of and my only care was to breathe the fresh mountain air, to rest and to gather strength for the rest of the year. Every morning we went up to the peak, listened to the Master's lecture, welcomed the sunrise which was like a heavenly saga, performed paneurythmy, sang songs, visited other peaks, and the evenings around the camp fire with the Master were wonderful. I never gave a thought to the city and my cares connected with it. At that height and in that purity one was totally disengaged from everyday life and got real rest. The Master knew where to take us. Two or three days after I arrived at the mountain something strange began to happen to me. A peculiar grief, for which there was no reason at all, began to take hold of me. I felt terribly unhappy. This soon expressed itself in a wish to throw myself down from some high rock. I began shunning the rest of the sisters and brothers, an apathy got hold of me and when all alone I cried bitterly and tried to chose so high a rock that, when I threw myself down from it, 1 would undoubtedly die. I had decided on dying. Only one thing still prevented me from committing the foolish act: the newspapers would write about this and it would be a blot on the honor the the Brotherhood. On the eigth day, coming down from the peak, the Master passed by me and turned and looked rather attentively at me, but said nothing. That afternoon 1 cried bitterly and long, hidden behind a great stone by the lake. Then the thought to go to the Master passed through my head. With tear-stained face and swollen eyes I walked along the shore of the lake and came to the Master's tent. In front of the tent the Master was talking with several sisters, and further on a brother was waiting his turn. I hid again behind a big stone and waited too. My tears were unceasingly streaming down my face. I watched the waters of the lake, pure and clear. Eels were jumping high over the water and diving back again in jolly play. I cried and waited. At last my turn came. I kissed the Master's hand and could hardly speak because of the tears: "Master, I want to die, I shall throw myself from some high rock." I could say nothing more. "Why, don't cry," he told me quietly and tenderly. "Come, sit here," and seeing that I was ashamed to have the others see me cry so bitterly, he gave me a small chair inside his tent. He himself sat on a big one by the table. Then he opened the Bible and began reading out of it silently. He read and I cried bitterly, sitting on the small chair. How long this lasted I never knew. At last my tears stopped. Inside me something lighted up and I looked at the Master as if through a clear window. He continued to read. I stayed calmly in the quietness of the tent. When he stopped reading he turned to me: "Listen now to what I am going to tell you: be careful when you accept favors. The sister whose tent you are sharing had a daughter who committed suicide and this grief and the wish to die were not your own; the girl obsessed you, and they were hers. Now go in peace," he added and closed the Bible. What exactly the Master read from the Bible and what he did, I know not, but when I went out of the tent I felt myself again and had no grief nor any wish to die. I didn't say anything to sister K. She saw that the last two days I was gay again and she was happy, as was I. Those last two days I was in a hurry to make up for the lost eight days, to imbibe the boon of Rila and to praise God.

He Worked Day And Night It was a winter's night. The frost crept freely through the cracks of the wooden walls of the little room where I slept when up at Izgrev. The stove was not burning. Curled up in the bed I was not sleeping, but waited for the time to get up and go to the Master's lecture. When the hands of clock were pointing to two o'clock after midnight I decided to go to the Hall and wait there where it was warm. In a few minutes I dressed and went out. On tiptoe I passed the well-swept platform in front of the Hall and went in. The burning stove welcomed me and I sat very near to it. I warmed myself up and began to think: whenever I come here during the night, seeking warmth, I always see that the Master's room is lighted. Does he prefer to sleep with the lights on or ... At this moment a noise came from his room which was just above the Hall. Under what a strong blue light he sleeps! Strange, that he doesn't leave burning only his small night lamp?-I continued to think. At this moment from his room there came again a noise, absolutely the same as the first one. Perhaps the Master got up to put some firewood in the stove and dropped a piece,-I continued to think, not suspecting that I was intruding. To my still greater surprise, absolutely the same noise was heard for the third time from his room. I was startled, looked around and stopped thinking. The Hall was dark save for the burning stove. But my consciousness was lighted up with the thought that the Master feels our thoughts even in the night. And I understood that it was not by mere chance that every night the ten blue electric bulbs of the chandelier in his room were burning. The Master worked in the night too.

Is The Problem Solved? It was a beautiful starry evening. I had my supper in my tent and, like every other evening, I went out to see if I could come near the Master. The big telescope was set in front of the Hall and the Master with a group of brothers and sisters observed the world of the stars. I joined the group. The Master was explaining what beings live on the different planets and what the distance is between the stars-things extremely interesting, unheard of till then, but... so faraway. "People without any cares! They talk about life on the stars and I cannot cope with life on earth," care-ridden I said to myself. Two days later was the date of payment of the bill at the pawnbroker's. I had to pay 500 leva. I had pawned my mother's entire jewelry for 5000 leva and if I didn't pay the interest it would all be lost like the two typewriters and a lot of other things before ... I needed 500 leva, that was life, and the stars . . . faraway stories . . . "Master, tell me something actual. Tell me how I can find the 500 leva that I need so badly, give a solution to an everyday problem." And while I was thinking of the 500 leva which I had to find from somewhere, the rest listened with attention to the very interesting explanations about the stars. I did not wait for the starry talk to come to an end. I went to my tent but could not go to sleep. Sometime in the night the image of brother S. came to my mind. He was a rich man but I was not acquainted with him. I had never spoken to him. How could I ask money from him! We saluted each other when we rarely met, as people of the same views do, but I had never heard his voice, nor he, mine. How could he believe that I would repay the money if I asked him for it? The dog, my keeper, growled in its sleep and this reminded me that I had to go to sleep, too. It was late and the quietness of the night lulled me to sleep. In the morning I got up early, prepared myself and started through the forest to the playground where the children awaited me. Just before I entered the forest I met brother S. from whom I thought the night before to ask a loan. I had not the courage to speak to him, and saluting each other we each went his own way. That same evening I went to the store to buy something for my supper. I was startled when I saw the same brother S. in the store. "That now is not a mere coincidence," I said to myself, "if I meet him once more I shall ask a loan from him; after all, we are from one and the same Brotherhood! ..." I persuaded myself, "and besides, I have no other way out. To meet him twice in a day, which never happened before, may be is not a coincidence but a sign," I thought reassuringly. The next morning on my way to the playground I stopped at the home of brother Tahchev to ask something. As I entered his home, immediately after me brother S. came in, also having to ask something. Then I gathered up all my courage and said: "Brother S., I would like to speak with you, can we walk together through the forest?" "Yes, I am also going to pass that way," he replied, and we went out together. The first moment I wished that the trees might bend down their branches and hide my face - I felt so embarrassed. "Eh, come on, what is it you would like to talk with me about, sister?" he asked. I had no choice, I had to speak. "My father was a jeweler in Varna. Several years ago in a deal with England he lost heavily. He brought several suits against the English firm with no results and we lost everything. We have come to live in Sofia with my grandmother. Seven of us are living only on my salary. Father is old and downcast . . . We often pawn things at the pawnbroker's with very big interest. Sometimes we manage to get our things back and sometimes we don't. Now I have pawned all my mother's jewelry for 5,000 leva and pay a monthly interest of 500 leva. This month I cannot pay the interest. Would you loan me these 500 for some weeks? I risk to lose all those jewels which in fact cost ten times that much." When I finished I was out of breath. "Yes, of course, sister, I will lend you the money. When is the interest to be paid?" His words were spoken quietly and calmly. I felt as if I was dreaming. "The payment date is today." "Then we shall meet at five in the afternoon. Where is that pawnbroker?" "We might meet at St. Nedelja's Square, near the big clock. The store is near by." We continued through the forest. The branches of the trees touched and made a green vault above the path. I looked around. It was bright and sunny. I had not noticed it until that moment. Such a big burden fell off my shoulders. In the afternoon I asked a collegue to take over my last two hours with the children so that I could be punctual at the meeting with brother S. We went to the pawnbroker and asked for my account. I was startled when I saw that brother S. began counting off so much money. "The interest is only 500 leva," I whispered. "Why should you pay such a ridiculous interest? I shall pay off everything and you will pay it back to me little by little when you have money. You can take your time." Thus he counted out 5,500 leva and the man gave us back all the jewels. This was wonderful. I had no words to express my gratitude and I had a hard time to make him retain the jewelry, for my own peace of mind, up to the time I could repay him the amount. But the most interesting part of the whole story is to follow. Two days after the settling of my debt in this wonderful way, a group of brothers and sisters were to go with the Master to the Rila Mountains. During the whole night the big lamps in front of the Hall were lighted, persons were bustling around, preparing the luggage and the food to be taken. The group going up the mountain with the Master was usually the most numerous. At dawn, about three A.M., everyone at Izgrev was out in the yard. Some were starting off and others were seeing them off. The Master put out the light in his room and came down happy and smilling, all in white, and with a walking stick in one hand. We all began singing "Brotherhood —Unity. Then everyone passed by to bid farewell to him, kissing his hand. My turn came. "Is the everyday problem solved?" whispered the Master jokingly. "Yes, Master, and I thank you very much!" I took his hand with both of mine and kissed it with gratitude. Nobody noticed or heard what we said. I understood that he who spoke about the stars in heaven, did not forget the souls on earth.

One Day You Will Be Grateful For This Wrapped up in my own personal grief, with bowed head, I walked up and down the cement platform in front of the Master's stairway. I wanted the Master to come down, to smile at me and to tell me that THIS question will be settled well. But he did not come. The sun had set. The birds stopped singing and dozed in their nests, the flowers in the garden closed their coloured calyxes and slept, dreaming of the sun. Only my heart could not sleep. My only hope was the Master. I looked up at his window and thought: The Master solves correctly all problems, he is my shore of safety .. . An hour and perhaps two passed. Not heeding that the Master might perceive my thoughts, I continued to talk mentally with him, marching back and forth on the platform in front of the stairs leading to his bedroom. At last the door opened, the wooden stairs creaked and the Master, very serious, stood before me. I looked at him timidly because of my audacity to trouble him at such a late hour. And not waiting for me to say a word, he spoke out strictly: "Listen to me now, you are not going to marry D." "But, Master, why? In your lectures you say that when a person loves someone long enough, he will come to be loved by that 'someone'." "I said to you: you had the task of restoring to D. his faith in women after the severe unfaithfulness he went through, and you did that for him. You uplifted the image of woman in his eyes. You have lost nothing by this love, you both have gained by it. You love him and he loves you and will love you. But this does not mean that you have to get married." "But, Master, why? I love him and wish to be constantly with him!" "If you insist, you might succeed, but in this way the problem will be solved in a human way. Listen, love is one thing and marriage-another. On earth you have a karmic tie only with your father. If you wish to be a pupil, don't create for yourself new ties and new karma. A marriage is binding, it gives complications and hinders the freedom of the soul. Sometimes people marry to settle their karma and such a marriage is correct, it is in the path of those souls for the liquidating of their karma. But most often people marry because of the intensity of their feelings, because of material benefit or just out of ambition. Then both husband and wife and children suffer. Thus I say unto you: love, but do not bind yourself; one day you will be grateful for this. I listened and looked at the Master and could not understand. Emotions overflowed my mind and I could not think soberly. "Every experience is a lesson. You will understand later. Give food to the hungry and not to the one that is filled already. That is enough ..." "That is enough"-the words echoed within me. The Master climbed back to his room and I walked thoughtfully back home. Years passed. I continued to love and suffer for D. I was his spiritual friend, "my talisman" as he called me. He didn't share my beliefs and my way of life, but we talked for hours together and still had something to say to each other. Often when talking with the Master he asked me about D. Then I told him in detail how he had looked at me, what I had said to him and so on and on. The Master listened to me with attention and sometimes laughed loudly at my naive chatter. His asking about D. made me very happy and I shared with him every incident between us. In December 1944 the Master passed beyond the threshold. And henceforth nobody asked me about D. Years passed and I began praying to the Master to help me stop thinking about D. I had understood that I was feeding one who is already satiated-had learned that the man had one, very intimate, woman friend. I received the help and stopped seeing D. and thinking about him. Two or three years later we met once on the street. "Why have you stopped loving me?" he asked of me with emotion. "That is enough!" I replied quietly, using the words that the Master had told me years ago. We said good-bye and each went in the opposite direction — opposite were our ways of life, too. Walking down the street I was filled with gratitude that I had remained free, and in this way had no ill feeling now towards this sould. The Master was right.

When Heaven Wishes To Give You Something Very often, after the evening meal, the Master came out in front of the Hall for conversation. This was a very special and pleasant time. You could stand near, very near the Master and listen to what he said to the people around. Sometimes he was very jolly and laughed with full melodious laughter and sometimes he was very serious-listened attentively, answered, and himself asked questions. We could look at him and listen to him, speaking like every ordinary man but every word of his was absorbed by our souls as thirsty persons gulp down the clear pure spring water. Most often the conversation started with one person and ended with ten, fifteen and sometimes twenty, grouped around him. Whenever I went to Izgrev in the evenings I liked very much to include myself within the group around the Master, to listen to and look at him. I never participated in the conversation because I was very bashful then. One such evening the Master looked at me and asked: "Eh, Milka, if Heaven wished to give you something, what would you ask for?" "I? I would ask to have money and beautiful clothes, to be rich!" I replied without thinking, then turned scarlet all over, because I found myself the center of attention and because, so unthinkingly, I had expressed my sensitiveness about the things I lacked. "Listen to what I am going to tell you: when Heaven wishes to give you something never ask for temporary possessions. The money will be spent and the clothes will be worn out. Ask that you be given a heart pure as crystal, a mind bright as the sun, a soul vast as the universe and a spirit mighty as God and one with Him; ask for that which nobody can give you and nobody can take away from you. It is wealth to the healthy, to have pure blood, pure thoughts, a pure heart; material possessions are temporary," the Master said and looked at all the persons gathered around him. Many years passed by. Through experience and suffering I learned a lot. Many times I fell down and got up again and step by step walked on the steep path of pupilage. Then once again, up in his room, the Master asked of me: "If Heaven be willing to give you something, what would you ask for, M ilka?" With a heart burned out by much hard experience and with a soul tired out by many ramblings in confusion, I answered firmly: "I will ask, Master, for. . . " And that evening, walking on the road towards the city where my home was, I almost loudly talked with myself: today, after twenty years, the Master asked me the same question. How very slowly we men on earth learn our lessons! With what patience the Master waits for us to grow up and come to the Realty of Life. Yes, man's garment gets old, the soul disentangles itself from the dusty decoration, then the consciousness brightens up and the words of the Master, uttered twenty years ago, come back to memory: "When Heaven wishes to give you something, never ask for temporary possessions!"

How I Began To Write Children's Stories It was a rainy autumn evening. The reception room of the Master was lighted. I knocked at the door. He opened it and invited me in. I took off my shoes in the lobby and went in. Once I was in the room, there was an instant change within me: light and gladness engulfed me, I felt as if in another world. The Master looked at me and enveloped me with beams of light which he radiated. I forgot what I came for, I didn't know what to say, the grief with which I had come disappeared and I kept silent. "Why are your stockings wet?" he asked, in order to give me the chance to open up the dyke and unload my life's heavy burden. "I go thus all day long. This lack of money, these endless distances. The best years of my life will pass in poverty," I replied ruefully. "The wise profit by all conditions, and the foolish lose even in the best conditions. Every trial is for good." "Now, tell me, what good could I see in my misery?" "Eh, it depends on what content you wish to insert into your life. What is more beautiful and more precious: to be a soulless doll with jewelry and silk dresses, or to be a developed person whose face bespeaks deep inward spiritual life?" the Master added gaily. "I wouldn't like to be a doll but my hardships are not small. I live two kilometers from my work, I come three times a week to Izgrev, and all is usually done on foot because I have no money to board a tram or a bus. I don't whimper, I dislike people to have pity on me, but, Master, please tell me when these hardships will come to an end?" "If you had money you would never have come to Izgrev, you would waste your life. Be glad that you sacrifice your worldly goods for others, and the hardships you can easily turn into good." "And what good must I see in that every day, in rain and snow, I have to go kilometers and kilometers on foot?" "I will tell you. Everything can be turned into good. When you walk-think. Think out a theme for a story and when you go home in the evening write it down. Try this, I say, and you will see that the long walking will cease being a burden." "To think out stories? . . . Well, I shall try, but I doubt whether I shall be able to do it." "Yes, you will do it. Chose a subject and dress it up in the form of a story," quietly and persuasively added the Master. And every word of his was gulped down by my thirsty soul like crystal fountain water. My life continued as heretofore. The words of the Master often came back to me and I tried, when walking, to think about some hero. One evening, splashing in the mud towards home with a loaf of bread in my bag and no money in my pocket, I imagined a doll's city where no poverty existed. The dolls' queen was the good fairy for her subjects. Every evening with a flying chariot she went around the city and left at every door a basket full of fruit . . . and so on and so forth, and when I reached home the whole story, from beginning to end, was clear in my consciousness. For the first time I went home not noticing the long distance and not feeling the unpleasantness of splashing in the muddy streets with my feet in a pair of shoes that badly needed repair. Before going to bed that evening I wrote down my first story, "The Dolls' City." The next day I told it to the children at school. They liked it so much that for days to come they made me repeat it daily. Some days later, walking again on the streets of the city, I made up the story of "The Life of a Small Stone," then "The Snow Queen and the Snow-Drop," etc. Soon my stories began to be published in the newspaper, "Novi dni" (New Days). In rain, snow and frost I walked smiling, and in my thoughts talked things over with my story heroes. Conditions are being overcome when man thinks about something useful and does not whimper. "Every trial brings some good," said the Master.

A Lunch This happened during my seven hungry years. At Izgrev the refectory was not yet established. I was in my tiny blue wooden house, and was very hungry and thought: If the Master truly sees in space, does he know that I am here . . . can he see now that I am hungry and have nothing to eat . . . and a lot of such thoughts were passing through my mind. Finally I came to the conclusion that it was very stupid of me to believe that the Master would see and hear me at a distance. Surely he had more important and greater problems to deal with ... it is not very important after all that some one by the name of Milka is hungry and has nothing to eat. There was a knock at the door. "Come along home for lunch," I heard the bass voice of brother Epitropov, who, a second later, opened the door and repeated his invitation. "Oh, there is no need," I replied faintly, embarrassed and perplexed. All at once it came to my mind, what if the Master had heard me? I jumped from the chair. "Oh, come along, my wife has cooked a wonderful lunch today!" he insisted and waited for me to get my coat. On his way home brother Epitropov always passed by my house. I was a friend of his daughter, but never before had he come on purpose to invite me to have lunch with them. Still perplexed I went with him and had a really very good, delicious and plentiful lunch. Who had sent him to ask me to lunch?

More Suitable Audience This happened many years ago, perhaps in 1935 or 1936. At sunset I was sitting alone on a bench in front of the Hall at Izgrev drinking in the quietness of the evening. Everything around me was beautiful and pure, like in a children's story. They yard was cleanly swept. Under the hazel trees, just opposite the Hall, the tables for the community dinner were set with white table cloths. In between the tiles in front of the Hall and the reception room of the Master, grew and bloomed many-colored cobblestone flowers. On the left two big flower-beds of roses and anemones filled the air with fragrance. All was so quiet, so beautiful, so soul-elevating. But by the door of the Master, as usual, stood two or three sisters with doleful faces, dressed in quite an unsightly manner, looking very hopeless, of the kind that all the time hung around the Master, looking at him as though hypnotized. I watched them, wondering how they could stand all day long by the door of the Master and wondering still more how he could stand them! Soon the door of the reception room opened and the Master came out bidding farewell to two persons who had come up to him from the city. After they left, he started to go up to his room, but at that moment several brothers and sisters, all of the kind I didn't like, surrounded him. I watch from afar thinking: all afternoon the Master had received guests, had talked, advised, thought, and now again with what attention he listened to everyone as if they had to solve some problems of the greatest importance. If only they were some men of science and not . . . I didn't include myself in that group, not wanting to look like them and not suspecting that being anxious as to how I look, I myself ranked even below them who, after all, cared more about the Master's words than about their own looks. The Master was dear to me, so at the first chance I got when we were alone (only then I could freely talk to him) I asked: "Master, why don't you chose a more suitable audience, consisting of more cultured persons?" "Whom don't you like?" "Those that hang all day long at your doors. Strangers come up from the city and what will they think!" I replied thoughtfully. "Who do you think needs a doctor —the sick or the healthy?" "Oh, the sick, of course!" The Master waited for my reply then continued: "Those that hang at my doors all day long are the sick. Ought the doctor to send them away? Being a doctor he has to heal. The healthy are at work. The sick, when they become healthy, will go to work too. Isn't it so?" the Master asked warmly of me. "But your teaching opens up such a deep philosophy of life that an audience of professors and men of science would understand it better and would spread it throughout the world. I don't think that I am above the others but if you surround yourself with more cultured persons it will be better" I insisted persuasively. "Listen to what I am going to tell you," the Master continued waving lightly his hand, "the sower sows the field and the seeds grow up alone when the time of growing comes. The important thing is to sow the field. If my teaching, if my words are divine, they will spread throughout the world. The divine works by unknown, living paths. If I speak empty words and contrive an empty philosophy, even if hundreds of professors popularize it, it will die out one day. He was silent for a moment, then continued: "The Divine succeeds by itself. All experiences, all suffering and trials of the whole of humanity come to confirm that only the divine succeeds!" calmly and convincingly ended the Master. I kept silent. It was perfectly true-the sick need a doctor. Where and to whom could they go if not to the Master?

Life Is An Endless String Of Divine And Human Manifestations I went to the Master to ask for his blessing for on the next day I was to have a model lecture before an inspector and quite a number of students. This time the Master was not occupied and received me at once. Not waiting for me to say a word he began: "Light begets light in the mind, warmth in the heart and life in the soul. "Light is the first Word of God, it is the beginning of all. "Material Life, external conditions are only the reflection of your inner world, of what you need for your growth at the moment. The most essential for a pupil is to study, to learn. What is and what is going to be, these are just theories. The most essential for the pupil is to learn. To learn through everything: movements, posture, bearing, eating. The correlation between the pupil's thoughts and emotions must be defined, clear and pure. Everything must be clear, pure and bright." I absorbed hungrily every word of his and wrote them all down in my special notebook. "Learn to understand and live life according to its contents, not according to its form." "Master, I would stay forever here in your room listening to you but tomorrow I have very important work; my lecture with the children will be attended by an inspector and forty student-teachers. I have to go home and prepare very diligently for tomorrow." I said it reluctantly, still writing down his last words. "There is no important and unimportant work. There are only divine and human moments. Man on earth is free to choose. Listen to me now: never miss the divine because of the human! "Yes, you are very right, Master, but what shall I do tomorrow if I am not well prepared?" "When a man prefers the divine, God Himself will arrange his tomorrow for him. Perhaps you will have no guests at the lecture." Soft purple light was filling the room and a strange mysteriousness engulfed me within a harmony and an enlightment hard for me to understand. "Every divine Word reverberates in your consciousness until it ripens and begins to live in your soul. The more divine truths you perceive, the better for you." The Master continued speaking quietly with foresight. At the time I could not understand all the meaning of what he was saying but I wrote down in my notebook every word of his. "The most beautiful moments of life never repeat themselves." When the Master stopped talking, it was dark outside, but in my soul it was so bright that I never knew how I reached home. The next morning I went to school very early, at six o'clock in order to prepare myself as well as I could. At eight I began work with the children; nine o'clock, ten, eleven-no guests turned up. Why? At about twelve I was informed that instead of that day, the guests would come on the next. The inspector had some other work and was late, so they decided to visit a nearer kindergarten that day and come to mine the next day. "When man prefers the divine, God Himself will arrange for him his tomorrow." Thus it happened.

When Master Speaks Does He See Us? The hall at Izgrev was always packed on Sunday mornings when the Master spoke. Anybody who was late had to stand by the door or even to remain outside, in front of the windows. Summer and winter all the seats were occupied early in the morning. About half past nine brother Simeonov began playing the violin and we all sang in chorus. Exactly at ten o'clock the Master came into the hall with a Bible in his hand. He passed through the people and went up on the platform and stood until we ended the song. He saluted us with upraised hand, then we all said some prayers together and sat down. He also sat down, read a chapter from the Bible and began his lecture. The Master talked quietly but clearly, as if he whispered to our souls. We were all ears and each one thought that he spoke specially for him alone. So strongly his living words appealed to us-the verbal milk with which he fed our hungry souls. Usually I listened to the lectures sitting somewhere at the far end of the hall. Once it happened that I was a little more to the front, by the column, near to the door. I was standing but was very content because from that place I could see the Master all the time. I listened and looked at the wonderful picture — hundreds of people with fixed eyes were looking at the Master and listening to him with bated breath. Just for a moment my thoughts wandered from the lecture and I began wondering whether, while speaking, the Master still saw us. Whether, for instance, he saw that I am standing by the column? Perhaps, bringing those Divine Words to earth for us, he was being transferred to other, higher spheres and was detached from the ordinary earthly, material things. The lecture continued and I continued to write down the most important thoughts which I wished to remember. At twelve o'clock the lecture ended as usual with the prayer "Our Father." Once again the Master passed among the people with the Bible in hand and went up to his room. Some sisters and brothers waited for him at the door to kiss his hand and thank him for the lecture. The audience dispersed. Some people conversed animatedly, others walked off towards the town and still others grouped themselves around the dinner tables. The sisters in charge laid white table clothes on the tables under the hazelnut trees. When everything was ready, the Master came down and took a place at the middle of the table, prayer was said and the dinner began. The food was simple but very delicious and well-cooked. At the end of the dinner the sister in charge let a small money box be passed around and everyone freely, according to his means, dropped in a few cents for the food he had eaten. Again the saying "Divine Love brings plentiful and complete life" and songs, prayers and talks with the Master began. Those sitting at the side tables usually came and stood around the Master's table. We sang and he looked at us and saw in us that which we could not see in ourselves and even did not suspect. Questions were put to him and he answered, then he asked questions-and again songs were sung. That very Sunday I stood just opposite the Master while we were singing. Looking around he saw me and very quietly whispered to me "You were standing by the column." At that moment I was not thinking about this, but he replied to the question that came to my mind while listening to his lecture in the hall. Nobody heard or understood, because these words were pronounced very quietly with a light joyous smile on his face. The song continued: "Great art Thou, Oh God, Great are Thy deeds, Great is Thy Name Above all... "