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Of course, the Spirit had other plans. Religion ended up being one of the most commonly discussed topics among my traveling-mates. Often enough, I was the one to bring it up (a cry for help? I don't doubt it now). For simplicity's sake, I was passing myself off as a Bah�'�, but I was completely confused in my mind. I was lost, I was torn, the trip was almost over, and no assistance appeared to be in sight. I felt doomed to return to the U.S. no more sure than when I'd left it. Then, on our last day of the trip, in London, my friends Sarah, Katie (a Muslim and a Christian respectively) and I decided to visit Speaker's Corner. It was a Sunday, and there were many many people there delivering heated speeches on diverse (and sometimes confusing) topics. I was standing fascinated with one speaker when Sarah pulled on my sleve. She pointed outside the general fray. "Isn't that one of you guys?" Sure enough, there was an older gentleman street-teaching calmly a little apart from the others. He stood there with a small sign and some literature, not taking part in the chaos nearby, but simply waiting for curious souls to approach him. I did so, and with a characteristic display of brilliance on my part, asked him, "Are you a Bah�'�?" "Yes, I am," he answered, apparently unflustered by my idiocy. "So am I," I told him. At this, his already smiling face lit up. Much later, I would read in the Writings of a Word that could wholly eliminate fear. This would remind me of what followed for the rest of my life. What happened is that this devoted servant spoke to me a single word. And there, on a street corner in a foreign land, I heard for the first time addressed to me that most blessed of greetings: "All�h-u-Abh�!" "All�h-u-Abh�," I replied. I remember very little of what we said after that. Small talk, assuredly. But I will not, cannot forget the feeling. The weight of doubt had been lifted from my shoulders. All confusion, fear, despair, everything that had characterized my previous life, was suddenly gone. And I was happy. Me. Happy. Joyous, jubilant, delighted. Happy. "Life is perfect!" I tried to explain to my friends that evening. They didn't understand. Nor would I, always, in the months and years that were to come. I would have my spiritual ups and downs, my trials and my triumphs. I was nearly falling over with exhaustion when I signed my declaration card late at night on September 11th, 1998 in Jora's basement. They couldn't find a card at first. I almost had to sign a Spanish one. But I tell you truly that I cannot help but to shiver with that Dawnbreaker-like excitement I have come to recognize every time I hear "All�-u-Abh�!" spoken in faith. And if I ever feel myself faltering, I can think of that first time, and of how blessed I am that I can remember it, and it is as an oasis in the desert to my soul, a spring of hope that never seems to die.
I never asked that man's name. I can't remember if he asked mine. I don't remember his face, his voice, his age or what he wore. I only remember the beauty of his soul, and it is for this I pray, constantly, in my newfound life. May we all be such teachers of teachers, and may we all be, in truth, the spreaders of the Light.
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