“‘You spend all your time with the disciples. What about your responsibilities for your wife and children? I regret that you do not interest yourself in providing more money for the family.’ “The master glanced at me for a moment, then lo! he was gone. Awed and frightened, I heard a voice resounding from every part of the room: “‘It is all nothing, don’t you see? How could a nothing like me produce riches for you?’ “‘Guruji,’ I cried, ‘I implore pardon a million times! My sinful eyes can see you no more; please appear in your sacred form.’ “‘I am here.’ This reply came from above me. I looked up and saw the master materialize in the air, his head touching the ceiling. His eyes were like blinding flames. Beside myself with fear, I lay sobbing at his feet after he had quietly descended to the floor. “‘Woman,’ he said, ‘seek divine wealth, not the paltry tinsel of earth. After acquiring inward treasure, you will find that outward supply is always forthcoming.’ He added, ‘One of my spiritual sons will make provision for you.’ “My guru’s words naturally came true; a disciple did leave a considerable sum for our family.” I thanked Kashi Moni for sharing with me her wondrous experiences. {FN31-2} On the following day I returned to her home and enjoyed several hours of philosophical discussion with Tincouri and Ducouri Lahiri. These two saintly sons of India’s great yogi followed closely in his ideal footsteps. Both men were fair, tall, stalwart, and heavily bearded, with soft voices and an old-fashioned charm of manner. His wife was not the only woman disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya; there were hundreds of others, including my mother. A woman chela once asked the guru for his photograph. He handed her a print, remarking, “If you deem it a protection, then it is so; otherwise it is only a picture.” A few days later this woman and Lahiri Mahasaya’s daughter-in-law happened to be studying the BHAGAVAD GITA at a table behind which hung the guru’s photograph. An electrical storm broke out with great fury. “Lahiri Mahasaya, protect us!” The women bowed before the picture. Lightning struck the book which they had been reading, but the two devotees were unhurt. “I felt as though a sheet of ice had been placed around me to ward off the scorching heat,” the chela explained. Lahiri Mahasaya performed two miracles in connection with a woman disciple, Abhoya. She and her husband, a Calcutta lawyer, started one day for Benares to visit the guru. Their carriage was delayed by heavy traffic; they reached the Howrah main station only to hear the Benares train whistling for departure. Abhoya, near the ticket office, stood quietly. “Lahiri Mahasaya, I beseech thee to stop the train!” she silently prayed. “I cannot suffer the pangs of delay in waiting another day to see thee.”