nds incredible it was not incredible to me.
I had had a profound experience. What is a miracle? It is simply the
vision of the Divine behind nature. It will come in different forms
according to the eyes that see, but the soul will know that its
perception is authentic.

I could not leave Kashmir, nor was there any need. On the contrary I saw
that there was work for me here among the people she had loved, and my
first aim was to fit myself for that and for the writing I now felt
was to be my career in life. After much thought I bought the little
Kedarnath and made it my home, very greatly to the satisfaction of
little Kahdra and all the friendly people to whom I owed so much.

Vanna's cabin I made my sleeping room, and it is the simple truth that
the first night I slept in the place that was a Temple of Peace in my
thoughts, I had a dream of wordless bliss, and starting awake for sheer
joy I saw her face in the night, human and dear, looking down upon
me with that poignant sweetness which would seem to be the utmost
revelation of love and pity. And as I stretched my hands, another face
dawned solemnly from the shadow beside her with grave brows bent on
mine--one I had known and seen in the ruins at Bijbehara. Outside and
very near I could hear the silver weaving of the Flute that in India is
the symbol of the call of the Divine. A dream--yes, but it taught me to
live. At first, in my days of grief and loss, I did but dream--the days
were hard to endure. I will not dwell on that illusion of sorrow, now
long dead. I lived only for the night.

"When sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away--
With the first dream that comes with the first sleep,
I run--I run! I am gathered to thy heart!"

To the heart of her pity. Thus for awhile I lived. Slowly I became
conscious of her abiding presence about me, day or night It grew
clearer, closer.

Like the austere Hippolytus to his unseen Goddess, I could say;

"Who am more to thee than other mortals are,
Whose is the holy lot,
As friend with friend to walk and talk with thee,
Hearing thy sweet mouth's music in mine ear,
But thee beholding not."

That was much, but later, the sunshine was no bar, the bond strengthened
and there have been days in the heights of the hills, in the depths of
the woods, when I