It was India tour 1983/84 and Shri Mataji let everyone on tour – over two hundred of us – put our foreheads on Her Feet. She gave us presents, and walked among us at times. All was bliss, in spite of our minor physical woes.
At one point She gave us original Indian ink drawings. She looked into my eyes and handed me a scroll.
‘This is Shri Rama,’ She said pointedly, with a tender smile. I knew my right heart was damaged. The drawing still hangs above my bed, more than twenty years later. When I look at it every day I still see Her smiling, handing it to me and telling me it is Shri Rama.