He turned back to Elizabeth, his sarcastic pout transforming into a compassionate smile. "There are many who are suited for helping the poor. What we do here is help people on a higher level." He went on to provide a framework through which to view poverty. Each soul, he explained, chooses the circumstance of its birth so that it can best work out its karma. At first, Elizabeth's question struck a chord in me. But I associated her question with Atmananda's accusation-- that many of us were sending hostile vibes to Guru. This made me upset, so I tried to think about something else. But there was something else I was trying not to think about. "Has anyone noticed that I have been going into advanced states of consciousness?" Atmananda had started to ask at the Centre meetings. At first there had been no response. "The powers from my past lives are returning," he continued in a sincere-sounding voice. "My consciousness is cycling. Those of you who can see will easily feel The Change." Several disciples nodded, as though for the first time they were feeling The Change. I knew that if I gazed at him intensely for several minutes, I saw auras in whichever hue I imagined. Nonetheless, I had not detected The Change. I wanted to maintain complete trust in my mentor, housemate, and friend. I told myself that my seeing abilities must not be too advanced. Atmananda then changed the subject. "The Golden Gwid Card," he said with a grin, "gives The Gwid and Roshi Megabucks unlimited access to multi-dimensional, trans-reality banking networks." Perhaps it was with The Golden Gwid Card in mind that Atmananda asked me to perform a "task of power." He instructed me to inspire each of the several dozen disciples in the Centre to donate money. "Tell them that the money will be used to buy me a surprise gift, and tell them the gift will be a new car." He suggested that I remind them that he worked night and day for the good of others, that he was broke because he gave all his money to the Centre, and that if he concentrated on making money rather than on helping Guru's mission, he could easily afford to buy his own car. "Got it," I said. "Don't pressure anyone. If someone does not want to contribute, that's fine." "Of course!" "And keep a list of who gave what." "No pro-blem-mo!" Honored that Atmananda would trust me with such responsibility, with such a secret, and with so much money, I felt guilty for not having thought of the idea myself. I understood that Atmananda was being a sneak. But he did work for the good of others night and day. And ours was the fastest growing Chinmoy Centre in the world. And the Guru's mission would suffer if Atmananda worked a traditional job. Besides, I was drawn to the idea of sneaking for a noble cause. The disciples gave generously, and Atmananda soon shifted the garage door opener from Rachel's car, which he had frequently borrowed, to the glove compartment of his shiny, new Renault LeCar.