[Points: Introduction—time and occasion—the event concerned—why memorable.]
I am in my middle teens with limited experiences. Still, I have no hesitation in singling out a particular day as the most memorable one in my short life.
It was some three years back. I was then at Hardwar with my parents in connection with some religious festival. They are disciples of a great saint, famous all over India. But I had never seen the saint before, because he generally passed his days away from the din and bustle of worldly life. While we were at Hardwar my father' one day told me that his preceptor too had come there and our family would go the next day to offer homage to him. Naturally I was in great excitement. What was the saint like? Was he a grave, sour-looking man like some of the saints I had read of?, Or, was he like others whose very presence sheds sweetness all around? Above all, should my boyish heart be able to feel his saintly charm?
On the appointed day we went to the hill on the opposite bank of the Ganges. We were received by an attendant and seated in a a room-like cave. We were told that the saint was engaged in prayer in his cell, but would be out shortly. After about half an hour or so, I saw the saint creep up from his cell and appear before us, He looked near about sixty, with a long beard, a dazzling complexion and an almost divine sweetness in his face particularly in his eyes and lips. We all stood up and bowed down before him. After he had blessed us all, my father introduced me to him. He now looked so affectio nately and sweetly at me that something like a spell fell upon me at once. I realised even in my boyish heart wherein lay his saintliness. He asked me a few ordinary questions, to which I replied with intence joy mixed with humility.
The interview lasted for about half an hour; but it has left an enduring impression on my mind. I not only met and talked with a great saint but received his blessings for a good and useful life in future. And his words have been an inspiration to me ever since.
