FOTW Leaflets – Krishna Venta, 1948 – 1949

All were originally attribute to “the Voice” which was how Krishna referred to himself.

Meditations, Lesson Leaflet #1, 8/22/1948

The WORLD is my home; I trod on its doorsteps; I go into its secret haunts to fathom the great mysteries. I bathe
the world with sunlight. My love pushes back the darkness. The black clouds of confusion, unwanted, I lift. I steal
into the world ‘neath the deep shadows of night in the hour thou dost least expect, and by the dawn I am gone.
Where I go, knoweth no man, save the Father who sent me. The Son of Man is here now, but be not dismayed for
He has come when the world needs him most. Only those who are awake in Christ shall know Him. Only those
who breathe the essence of God’s Holy Wisdom will drink at the fount in the presence of His Son. The Son walks
once more in the flesh as He did so long ago. He is one among you. His humbleness is known by His allegiance
toward all mankind. His love is manifest of God and is revealed to man through kindness. His compassion endures
the rebukes of all mankind so that they might know God. His eyes encompass the blue depths of truth. His beard,
though not too long, is streaked with threads of white. His chin is broad and firmly set. Strength abounds therein.
His hair falls to the shoulder with rippling waves, deep brown in color. His voice at times is like deep-running water,
refreshing to the weary traveler. It can send you into the enchanting realms of meditation or lift you into the ethereal
wonders of God’s greater kingdoms. Then again His voice can take on the air of an angry sea pounding against a
rock that refuses to be broken down. But always, if one seeks deep enough, there is love behind that voice. Be not
dismayed, my child, by the way He comes, though it is not as you had expected, for He comes to you and all alike,
free from chains or fetters, free from narrowed thought, free from the voice of hate, and free to be equal with all,
both great or small. He is here, not bound by any church or cult; nor will He form a new one. He comes not through
a church or any organized faith but works with them all. He comes not to a certain race of people but represents
them all. He is not interested in the political squabbles among nations which must run their course as expressed
in the New Testament, that is, not as they stand at present.

Later, in the very near future, He will have gathered the elect among man to do war against the war lords who
with possessive greediness do send innocent blood to water the ground. Those so gathered by Christ now, will
not go to war against their less fortunate brothers with blood weapons. The weapons used by the Shepherd
and His flock will consist of Love and the cloak of God. This message I leave with you and hope to see you
soon. Get ye wisdom and in all thy getting, seek for understanding.

Lesson Leaflet #2, 8/24/1948

Take heed, my child, for Christ is come. Lo, He knocks at the door and pleads. Dost thou turn Him away now? He
is one among you, unhampered by the dogmas man has placed upon Him. His apparel is modern, yet carries the
distinctive air of 1900 years ago. He seeks no idol worship of man. His plea to you is not for personal gain or praise.
His only hope is in your obedience to the Commandments of God. He does not seek superiority over man, nor
does He accept man’s superiority over Him. His desire is to remain as one equal with all, both great or small. You
are all His children, and He strives to serve you. If you are weary, come, and He shall give you rest. If you are in
sorrow, come, and He shall help to carry your cross. Nothing is too great for Him to conquer if you but have faith.
Take a lesson from the Power of Mind. As an infant, it had very little to do. The world was not known. The sea of life
was just beginning, so it was content in its peaceful slumber. The days passed into months, and the months into years.
Its harmony of rest was broken, and life became its responsibility. Now it had a progressive task to perform. Daily
the mother of necessity called upon its power. Problems continued to tax its ability to do, yet with little hesitation it
met each with a determination to conquer. Once it encountered a problem too hard to conquer, so it thought, and
instantly stopped trying. The after-effect was more detrimental than if it had tried to overcome. This experience
proved to be valuable to the mind. So henceforth it never stopped to admit defeat. As the years sped on, the
power became greater and reached a point where no problem was too great to master. So it is with Christ.
His power of mind knows no barriers. Be positive, creative and constructive in all that you do, think and say.

Lesson Leaflet #4, 8/31/1948

The road of life has many curves, and you are turning with them. If, by chance, you find yourself too weak to make
the trip, then think of God and gain your strength before you journey on. Each experience you encounter makes you
stronger for the next. Let not the road of life defeat you, nor the curves force retreat. The hidden passage of God’s
green valley is not too far ahead if you but keep on striving for the truth that you have wed. ‘Tis a blessed life you
live, if in victory you can feast. The battle won is always fun for those in final rest. For, you can sit beside the fount
of truth and dream of the journey passed—of how the curves on your highway of life led you onward to the valley
of peace. You will think back o’er the years to those days of rugged climb, when the curves of life ascended to the
mountains of despair—how the path ahead was hidden by the rising peaks of doubt—how the weary soul was longing
for the final curve to show, so that God’s green valley could be seen in the distance far below. After many a weary
and heartless day, when strength was ebbing fast, you raised your head to call for strength, and found the final
curve had passed. Then your joy knows no bounds. So, my children, hold thy faith. Do not be so frail, for the God
that loves you has put you on life’s trail. You must stand the tests to prove your love for God. If you work sincerely
and strive to gain the Truth—then the Adversary tempts you, do not waver in your growth. Each and every law you
master must undergo the test, to see if you are stronger than the things that you detest. You are the master of your
ship; keep it on an even course, and you shall never hit the reefs. You are the strength behind your convictions;
therefore, keep it always in repair, for you know not the hour when the voice of God doth call. If you do not serve
Him, then surely you will fall. Take a lesson from the sea and keep on pounding at the rock.

Introducing Propheteia Lesson Leaflet #31, 10/31/1948

If you will, it shall be the pleasure of our Father that I shall transport you into the realms of that which is yet to be.
Therein dwells the promises of thy Father. Through its vastness you must journey ere you reach perfection. It is
within the confines of this you must linger until you are become that which your God commands. The hopes, the
joys, the longings of mankind rest within the realm to which I alone can take you, save on the wings of futile fancy.
Had you hope which sprang from the disorders of your mind? Saw you God in flights of your imaginings, returning
to your sanity, daring not to believe, so fearsome was your vision? Harbored you fears beyond reason for your
unguided searching, and did you fear to pray lest your answer come from some monster of your own creation?
Did you at last in weariness heed the call of Morpheus to soothe your tortured memory? Did you seek solace in
sleep? Did you greet your awakening in peace? Had not the night borne away your thoughts? It was I who succored
you. Know you not who speaks to you? For shame! It is I who tends the throne of God and bears His promises
to the children of His creation. His every blessing passes in order before me. Hopeless indeed would the estate
of man be were I not obedient to the will of our Father. I am the servant of the Master and His disciples. I am the
battle-ground upon which forces of Light and Darkness strive. Upon my bosom parades the victorious army of
Right, and Truth dresses my body with the adornments of thanksgiving. I was extended to you from the lips of
Moses and of Elijah and of Daniel. And the Baptizer lent strength to the Wisdom of the Christos upon the platen
of myself. From the dismal loneliness of Patmos, the man Jesus summoned me that he might extend light from
his darkness—hope from his hopelessness to those who would accept. I was his messenger and his message.
Of me and through me men lived and dared and prayed and knew that God would turn His radiance once more
upon them. Ancient Grecians called me Propheteia, and it was well that they did so, for I am Prophecy.

Lesson Leaflet, 11/7/1948

Look not for tomorrow when today is just beginning. Speed not your time by idle thoughts. Live now, for the joy of
life is here. Each moment in its passing cannot return again. The things you think, the work you do, are painted
in your conscious mind. They are the magic chords of music—molded into harmony, if your works are good. They
are the misfortunes in your life, if an inharmonious chord is struck. You form the melody. You mold the pattern
according to your likes. If you pass into a moment of despair, it is not for you to keep. Let it go as quickly. Do not
build a fortress of this agonizing pain. If you join with others as they speak of things not good, it will surely make
you suffer, and the hurt will linger long. If you share your troubles with people like yourself, they will soon dislike
you and turn their face away. If you laugh at their misfortunes, it will soon come back to you. If you follow the path
of vanity, it will lead you to the holiday of fools, and you shall live in folly until the hour of awakening. If you waste
today, do not put the blame on others, for they are not at fault. You must arise from stupors and clear your mind
each day. If you love your neighbor, whatever be their plight, ’twill bind you in God’s kingdom. If you speak good,
then good will come back to you. If you think positive, the word of wisdom will develop in your soul. If there is laughter
when a misfortune strikes at you, it will never have a chance to grow. A love foretold is better than a ton of gold, if
in your heart it reigns sublime. Harmony within is a fortress of delight. It gives you a mighty strength. It leads you
onward to the light. A kind word is like a potent drug; it forces the evil into slumber. If those kind words can be kept
alive, then the evil will never be awakened. A helping hand is better than a valued gem. Its beauty is in giving and
not in selfish gain. An hour of self-forgetfulness is an hour well spent. It gives you an understanding of others and
how their lives are rent. It will make a man a human with one thought in mind: to become a humanitarian. This is
what the Savior meant when He said, “Am I not my brother’s keeper.” Therefore, my dear children, let us live today
and make the best of it. For tomorrow never comes, and yesterday is passed. Tomorrow will always be today,
tomorrow; and yesterday was today, yesterday—when you were passing through it. The past is gone, and you
carry only the remembrances. If they are good, keep them. If they are bad, then throw them away immediately.
A good housekeeper never cleaves to old worn-out materials; therefore, keep your own inner closets clean.
Keep your thoughts in constant repair, and they shall serve you well.

Introducing “Juvur” Lesson Leaflet #36, 11/11/1948

Of all the things there are to be, I pondered how, if I were told by God to take my choice of service, could I serve
Him more. I prayed for my answer, and my prayer was heard. I was told, “Know thyself! And in thy knowing, thou
canst serve.” I found solitude and communed with my self, and knew that I was Juvur. I asked my purpose, and
my reason, and the limit of my serving, and again my prayer was answered. Again I was told, “Know thyself! And
in thy knowing, thou shalt understand.” I knew. I raced from crown to crown of mighty monarchs of the forest—they
who long had stood as monuments of strength, who from their lofty heights looked down in scorn upon some lowly
man and said: “Behold me in my strength, Lest man should stand in awe, and say, Poems are made by fools like
me, But only God can make a tree.” And with his saying, think his tree was God, I chose a duty for the moment,
that man might not be deceived, and know with all his heart, that only God could make a tree. From the depth of
all my fury, and the fullness of my love for man, that he be not deceived, I chose to humble the mighty, make waste
the proud, strike down the symbol, lest it be worshipped, and not the Father which created it, as well as man, as
well as me. Having thus destroyed, I chose to build. To yon distant mountain-top I fled, where winds blew strong,
and the bitter cold of dismal night clawed at the heart of man, there to succor him. He was now my child—I had
led him to his God. Now I would care for him. When he summoned me in his loneliness, I stood between him and
the deadly chill of the night; I served his food and stood throughout the darkness, a guardian while he slept. In
might and in humility, I had served, and returned a wandering soul to the worship of his God. I, Juvur, had done
this; it was my mission—my service for I was Fire.

Introducing “Saggis,” Lesson Leaflet #37, 11/14/1948

Like the clay of the earth, I yield to every thought which lingers in the fleeting thoughts of man. I am to them
expression, that when man prays, or loves, or flings his praises to the stars, or tells fellowmen of God, I bear
his psalm. Upon my waiting ear he pours the deepest of yearnings, and, with the boldness of his youth, brings
forth his fondest hopes. It is my mission to his life to tell his wondrous plans to hearts that beat in tune with
him, to help him hope and dream, and dream and hope again, so long as life shall last. When manhood claims
his youthful mind, and turns his heart to nobler things, it is I who from some distant shore shall speed, and
whisper to his lover of his care. And yet I linger ’round about the place wherein he wraps himself about with
velvet robes of starry night and prostrates himself in sleep. ‘Tis I who whispers in his ear the fond “Good nights”
and “Dearest one, I love thee’s”, which make his slumber rich. I mold his dreams, and bring his visions; restore
his lagging faith. I greet him on his rising and cause his face to smile, and plant the words within his heart which
shall bear him through the day. I set about the face of earth and find his wandering child, and tell that child his
father cares; and catch the tears the child shall shed, and take them to myself and in each shimmering teardrop
find a prayer, unworded and unsung. And to the father, far across the sea, I send those prayers, to give him
strength to make his way to where his love lies waiting just to feel his tender touch. Far into the sun he sends
me, to the fountain of his God, to lay before his Father’s feet the burden of his heart, which life has made too
hard to bear, and resting every care he bore, refresh myself with cooling draughts, and carry some to him,
and as he drinks, refresh his faith. And so I stand and face away, prepare to take my leave; my work is done,
my journey through, my rest I crave. And, with it all, it is my due, for I, SAGGIS, was not a god to man.
I was his song.

Introducing Midnight, Lesson Leaflet #39, 11/18/1948

Night has its Nadir; it is I. When the light of the day has been waning, and blackness has encompassed the face
of the earth, it would seem to man that all the universe is dark, alone and hopeless. So it would be, were it not
for me, the hour of enchantment. Were I not standing guard at the farthest outpost of the mortal concept of time,
night would endure for the rest of the ages of the span of the Father’s thinking, but I stay the night. It is I, who
—from the depths of loneliness—call to the darkness, as if she were a living thing, and bid her cease in her
onward plunge to the void from whence she came, and have compassion on the creatures of the light, lest she
take their very life with her. And darkness resists me, for she—like man—would linger in her slumber, waking
not; for to wake is to live; to live is to strive, and in striving there is no rest. But I am thy hope. For, like unto the
night, thy darkness has its bounds—”thus far, and no farther, shalt thou go.” In despair, thou loosed thy grasp
on faith, oh man; in blackness didst thou sink, and in the blackness found thy rest, and there thou wouldst remain.
But I—the guardian of thy night—would bid thee face about and greet the coming day—have hope—have faith;
for still God lives; and with His living bides His love, too great for man to scorn. Man cannot die; his life is not his
own to cast aside as worthless weight, as man would measure weight. He is a creature after the image of his
Father, and it is not the Father’s will that one blade of grass should fall before it has received His grace. How,
then, oh man, wouldst thou defy the will of Him who made thee? Awake, and take thy place, for I, MIDNIGHT,
have marked the passing of the darkness; divided night from morning; turned time in her flight and given thee
another day in which to live, and hope and pray.

Introducing Incarnatus, Lesson Leaflet #40, 11/21/1948

There came one to me when I was watching by the side of him who was about to bid farewell to all he knew and
held dear on this earth, and sorrow was upon him. He was unready and unwilling that he should pass, for his task
was unfinished. I sorrowed with him, yet there was little I could do, or say, or even pray, to shed a blessing on my
friend. He was hopeless, and I was helpless, and it seemed as if even God had forgotten. My only prayer was,
“God’s will be done.” Yet, I in my ignorance knew not how God’s will should be done. It would have been my lot
to change the plans of the Creator, had strength been given me, for I loved my friend. But, my loving was that
of man—and not Divine. I, too, was pondering how when came the day that I should set forth to greet the Grim
Reaper—I should answer to His call. For, the WORD had condemned me. It was the will of my spirit, and the
spirit of my friend to serve the Father unto the uttermost limits of mortal ability; but the weakness of the flesh
had stood between desire and service. I had failed, and my friend had failed; and my friend’s friends and their
friends before them had failed. “Then,” I questioned, “is it the will of my Father to place upon my shoulders a
cross too heavy for me to bear, and condemn me to an eternal hell because I carry it not? Was this the way of
a Father who would show mercy unto the countless thousands of them who loved Him? Was the blood of His Son,
which poured from Golgotha’s cross to have been shed in vain by the uttering, ‘Thy will, not Mine, be done.’?”
From the depth of an unuttered prayer, the one who had come to stand behind me called with a soft and kindly
voice, and said, “Son of my Father, have no fear. It is not the will of Him who sent me that thou, nor thy friend,
shouldst perish in damnation. It is the labor of love which our Father hast given me to bring you the comfort of the
Son, Who said, ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His Only Begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ Is not forever enough?” The stranger turned, and, taking my friend
by the hand, lifted him from hopelessness into hope; from darkness into light; from death unto life. And in that
hour I was comforted, for INCARNATUS has spoken. Reincarnation was the hope of them that loved the Lord.

Introducing Sorbus, Lesson Leaflet #44, 11/30/1948

I would that all men could glory with me in the lowliness of my chosen task. I would be none other than myself.
When comes the endless toil, the coming and the going which attends the care our Father lavishes on His many
creatures, I attend Him. I bear his messages of hope and cheer, and carry parcels of His mercy to waiting souls.
Some would call me serf. But I am happy. It is perhaps, when bearing the supplication of some wandering soul,
from the depth of that lost soul’s darkness to the brilliance which surrounds the Fountain of the God-head, I glory
most. It is a pleasure—out of all the universe reserved for me alone—to stand with bated breath, and watch the
flood of love fill the countenance of God, as it is His will to grant a blessing to a soul that once was lost. It is my
heart which fills to overflowing as I bear his message in return; and kneel and wipe away the tears of joy which
surge from deep within the heart of him whom God has given hope anew, and know that I was he who bore this
gift. It is upon my charger that men of noble mien race from place to place about the earth, some rescue to effect.
Glorious beings, these, who—spurning home and friends—defy the terrors of the night, that some fellowman might
live to greet the coming day, and I speed with them, share their pleasure. When weariness slips down and all but
overwhelms these watchers over life, it is my pleasure to bend, and kiss their brow, and whisper words of comfort and
of strength to cheer their flagging hearts. It is through them that man shall live—neither I, nor they must be allowed
to fail. If other men, with vanity and pride should seem to scorn my lowliness, let them be reminded of their own
estate. It was I who lifted them, and held their hand, and walked beside them as they stumbled through life’s trials,
until at last they drew away, and stood upon their own. But such of glory and of fame which they have had, I claim
a part. From such I take—demand; but to all others, freely give. The name of SORBUS came from man, but the
Father named me SERVICE, and was pleased.

Introducing Solentium, Lesson Leaflet #56, 1/9/1949

The throes of life are both great and small, and I am found within them all. I linger on the cusp of each mutation,
and usher in the consignation. I enter in to calm the raging sea and set her to rest with God and me. I soothe the
anguished breath of a crying babe, and still its voice in sleep. I embrace the saddened heart and unite it with the
Maker. I come to the enchanted lovers beneath a moonlit sky and caress their inner thoughts. Philosophers,
poets, artists—all find peace beyond my hidden wall. Linger now, my child of light, and I shall tell you of my plight.
I am everywhere, yet you hear me not. I am around you, but cannot be seen. I am a friend—your Silent Teacher.
In meditation you are mine. In sleep, you walk with me. When in conversation with our Father-God, I encompass
thee. Without me, there would be no rest. I am the silence of your inner world. Thank thee, oh silence, for thy kind
embrace. Many are the times I have sought thee within the sanctuary of my heart, when in sorrow I did cry. Never
once have you denied me the rights of holy thoughts. Numerous were the days while in infanthood I slept beneath
your wing. Then again, so many times when I was older child you gave me wisdom of things I had not seen. Now
I am in ripened years and still I find you near. When the trials, under a sunless sky, darken my burdened soul, you
give me courage to face another day. Truly you are silence, but within you God doth dwell, and I see a glory in the
golden throne of light, where darkness cannot enter, and the joys of life are told. Secrets beyond my mortal grasp
are in the vaults of thy domain, and if I seek thee often, I’m sure to find the answer—to those untold gems of love.
Give me strength, oh Father, to utilize the silence—thy meditative force—and in prayer to ask for wisdom—the
everlasting knowledge of love and life and hope, that I might best be fitted to help my fellowman. I know the secret
of submission, and with thy kind permission I’ll take my cross to bear without whimper or despair. And if in silence
I can rest, I’ll know I’ve stood the test to better be a servant within this world of mortal fancy. Amen.

Introducing “A Quest for Prayer,” Lesson Leaflet #62, 1/25/1949

Like a falling rain-drop snatched by a passing wind, like a pine cone driven before the coming storm, or the rolling
sand before the onslaught of a savage sea, such was my first prayer. I knew the fear of searching through the
blackness of the space beyond the worlds seeking for an unfamiliar God. I felt the loneliness of sending prayer
on endless prayer into a void of my own ignorance. I felt my simple thought become a helpless thing trapped in
the immensity of all the universe—beyond the scope of time or space. I knew not whether God was but a greater
man than I, or some Celestial Being who regarded only laws Divine beyond my understanding. I pondered if
my plea had fallen too far short of standards set by Him who rules the universe. And in the thinking of my finite
mind there was question as to what the Father would that I should pray for. The love which once was mine has
faded into nothing through forgetfulness. The maid of my desire today is service in the Father’s name. I wondered
should I pray for her who once had breathed my name in solemn love, or should I ask that all who are my Heavenly
Father’s children be espoused to me, that I might share my love with all who would receive His truth in filtered
tones. Or should I ask for wisdom, faith or grace; for strength or courage or purity of spirit; or should I wait until
the dusk of life, and then be thankful for the mercies fate had dealt—unmindful of the countless cruel blows
which found their target on my hapless head and through my tears explore to find some lesson I had learned
which would make my next life richer? Then, like a song, a melody which started at the Throne, and surged and
swelled and rolled its overtones of purity of God’s own love until it filled the night wherein I knelt, and bathed
my soul with rapture, I heard the answer—the only answer to all humanity. “Be still and know that I am God.”
And God would know the thoughts of man for which no speech was found. He fathomed out the deep desire
which lay beneath the searching for a prayer to say. The Father who made both the universe and me, and
made them to His likeness knows the secret thoughts of all His creatures, and takes from deep prayers which
even He might utter if He were robed in human flesh. And with the answer came a peace to last till time
should end, and I should meet Him face to face.

Introducing The Stranger, Lesson Leaflet #64, 1/29/1949

As you have journeyed along the way of life, meeting men of various walks, have you met a stranger who inspired
your confidence with just a smile, the clasp of a hand, the twinkle of an eye in greeting? Have you seen a figure
striking in a humble way, whose very poise inspires a second look; who strides along a country road and children
follow in his footsteps? If so, indeed your pleasure has been rare. Have you sat beneath a tree and listened while
this stranger takes a fallen leaf and traces in its veins the pattern of the universe, and shows the story of creation
from the moment in the mind of God were said the words, “And let us make…”? Has he leaned forward and with
a pointing finger separated grains of sand from their companions and let their glittering smoothness trickle through
His hands, and told the story of solar systems, and milky ways, and suns and stars beyond the eye of man, and
made them live and move and whirl by the magic of his words? Or has he torn the human heart apart and shown
you why the sight of this or that fair maiden, or of the manly form of some brave lad has sent the blood of you along
its way in surges, until its pounding on the brain has drowned the loudest surf? Or has he chosen just a single drop
of distilled elixir of love and shown you all the sorrow, passion, pain and fury of confusion which—when blended
into one pure fluid—courses through the human veins and burns and sears its imprint in the living consciousness
to last till life shall end and then begin again? And has he chosen from the universe a thought to mark the course
of man from long before the dawn of written history into the future far beyond his wildest fancy, wherein planets out
in interstellar space become the building-stones of vaster and yet vaster empires in tribute to his restlessness—a
token of his everlasting quest for truth? Or has this stranger who has entered on your peaceful scene, found time
to rest his tender hands upon your brow and gently close your weary eyes and whisper in your waiting ear? Has
a voice as rich as running water led you into meditation and on and on until he made you know at last you stood
within the radiance of the Father-God, and placed your soul at rest, and gave you peace? If all these things be true,
my unknown friend, you are unknown no more. Your new-found friend has been my own companion for days and
years on end. And now my secret I can share. The stranger, a Master, teacher, friend and guide—Who stands
before you now—He is The Son of God.

Introducing My Debt, Lesson Leaflet #69, 2/10/1949

From where I sat in tattered garb, I watched the wealth of all the Orient flow by on backs of men who bore their
treasures homeward at the close of day. There was comfort, and security being borne to waiting loved ones
who would parade the fashions of the day before the eyes of others, poorer than themselves. Princes, kings
and potentates would bow and court the favor of their beauty made more beautiful with emeralds and rubies
purchased at the price of human happiness. I watched the children romp and play with golden hoops and
scatter diamonds in the dirt and dare a playmate find the price of bread beneath the dust. I saw brocaded
garments torn and rent, and silk and velvet tossed away in discard while others faced the chill of night
unclothed, unhoused, unwanted. The children of the rich had early learned contempt for that which came
their way with ease. When came the setting sun and youth came forth to meet his mate, it was to buy her
favor with the spoils of labor from which not one mite had gone to God; nor did their thoughts turn toward the
temple as arm in arm they strolled and planted kisses on each other’s lips, and whispered promises never
meant to be fulfilled. They looked upon the freedom of their silver to buy the sanction of their kind and place
approval on those acts which conscience would condemn. They gave no thought to whence their paths might
lead, and neither did they care if fate, or chance had brought them to the light of day. There was no care
tomorrow’s sun should rise or men should live, and love move across life’s stage between those suns which
marked a day of pleasure for themselves. These things I saw and thought of how our separate paths had
gone; for I had once been one with them, and measured worth by gold alone, and judged a friend according
to the favor he could turn. But some good Master whose appointed task it was to salvage human flotsam
from the sea retrieved me for some worth I could not find. He set me on a hill from where my eyes could
view my past and see the future which was planned for those who would not follow Him who made man
like Himself. And with the vision, I was moved to bow my head in silent prayer, to thank the Master who
had taught me how to love my simple garb, to bless the crust and jug of wine which served for repast morn
and night. I prayed my thanks to Him for giving me a stone upon whose coolness I could rest my head when
day was done, and count the myriad of stars which were my blanket through the night. I blessed Him for the
few remaining years of service I could give, and asked I be allowed to pay the debt of gratitude I owe by
holding out a beacon-light to those who follow in my steps.

Introducing the Hidden Reason, Lesson Leaflet #70, 2/13/1949

In gratitude I took a crust that had adorned the Master’s table; I let His fingers press the cup between my
fevered lips; this humble head was cradled on His sacred breast, and words from His mouth calmed my fears.
My hunger eased, my sorrows calmed, I fell to musing on the road my feet had trod. What led me to the very
arms of Him who was the second in the thought of God? Why, of all the billions, should he have beckoned to
this lowly one and bid him find his shelter within the hallowed walls wherein flows the wisdom of the Father in
gem upon gem of human consolation until they all are woven into one exotic robe of happiness whose jeweled
clasp is the handshake of the Son of God? There are no cities upon the earth which bear my name. No nation
can recall my ever having led them forth in battle, to later have them gather ’round the victor’s table and raise
a toast to the prowess of this humble one as a wielder of the lance or spear. Certainly no mighty structure of
steel and stone has stemmed from my creative intelligence. Not within this hall will there be found a single
sword, or shield, or buckler, or other mute reminder of material fame. This chamber is not for soldiers, builders
or caterers to human vanity. The atmosphere which shrouds these sacred walls bespeaks of peace and depth
of human understanding which needs not steel to separate opinions of two brothers, nor mace to force agreement
where ought but kindness reigns. Man does not hide behind a breastplate to escape his Teacher’s love. The
kindly faces seated ’round me had long since been masters of all hate and murder, jealousy and fear. The Master
of them all beheld my questioning gaze, and with a smile of godliness so pure as to banish all the fears of, aye,
a thousand lifetimes, he lifted my bewildered head, and said again those words with which His welcome had
gone out through all the ages, to each who had endured thus far, the reason for his worthiness to sit as
among this chosen few. “It is, my son” the Master said, “because you have loved the brethren.”

Introducing “Confession,” Lesson Leaflet #72, 2/17/1949

Last night I knelt in solemn prayer and sent my thoughts into the universe, and cared not which intelligence in all of
immortality was listening as I poured the secrets of my soul before the feet of God. I did not bear another’s hidden
thoughts, revealed to me in some confessional—these thoughts were mine. These burdens I had borne in silent
ignorance since first I saw the light upon this earth. These were the weights and fears of which I must be rid, ere
ever I could live in peace and face my conscience with the breaking of the day. I know the childish love I lavished
on the one who bore me in this life—adored her, called her mother, and blessed her for the very breath I breathed,
and gave no thought to Him who gave the life she carried and brought forth. I prayed His mercy comprehends.
Unrealizing his to be a faint reflection of the greater love of God, I worshipped him who took me by the hand and
led me through the years when danger lurked behind each fallen leaf, when seen through childhood’s eyes. I
called him father, thanked him for the peace which came from Him who is the Giver of that universal peace, a
peace that’s free to all mankind, if it would only ask. But, God is understanding in His greatness. Came days of
youth, when I, no other, was the greatest in my little realm. To me, it was my strength which stemmed the fray;
my wisdom which would plan the peace; no one knew as well as I which turn my course would take. My ego knew
no greater mind; conceived no reasons other than my own. Yet, all around, above, beneath me, I, myself, the
mind which made me my own demi-god, was made, was formed, created by the God I would deny. But, His
compassion is beyond all understanding. Then, having come to man’s estate, my foolishness would bid me
challenge Him who formed the universe—to doubt the wisdom of His Son—to dare to question all the laws by
which man lived and passed. My finite mind would question e’en the wisdom of the Father. And so at last, I bow
submissive, and while life lingers in this frame, I beg forgiveness for the fool I’ve been, and only ask that I might
spare some other soul the bitterness which I have known, and share with him my final joy—the joy which comes
when, after all, the Master blesses me, and in His greatness smiles, and says, “My son, you are My own.”

Introducing Beauty, Lesson Leaflet #73, 2/20/1949

I came to worship at Your feet,
In search of beauty of a type and depth
The mortal mind could not provide.
My searching was not of earth, or man.

I looked upon the works of masters
And sought to plumb the depths
Of them who would interpret for me
Beauty, such as human eye could see.

I listened with intentness
To the tone-poems fashioned in the hearts
Of men who sought for lifetimes, but in vain,
For God’s “Music of the Spheres”.

I blended color after color with the brush
Of every Angelo who was to live.
I spread the pigments on the canvas of my mind
And watched the finished picture form.

I wrung the human heart and mind
Dry of all emotion, and waited while it filled anew
With love untainted, and unstained,
In search of love such as the Father knows.

I drank the bitter distillate of all the thoughts
Of men, who, like myself, were seeking.
Yearning in their heart of hearts, also
To find the answer which I craved.

Together, they and I had formed a caravan
And trekked the earth from end to end;
Ascended to the vault of heaven,
Unsatisfied with offerings of this earth.

Then, and at long last, we came,
My company and I, to bow in ecstasy
Before Thy Throne, O Universal God,
And empty our petitions, and then wait.

And wait, while radiations from the depth of Thee
Shall cleanse our hearts of every mortal taint,
Until absolutely nothing shall remain
But pure intelligence—essence of our God.

Wait until, from somewhere in the Infinite,
From the right hand of His Father,
Steps His Son, the Master, and with the beauty of Himself
Fulfills our soul’s desire.