E C K A N K A R, Religia Światła i Dźwięku Boga
By T. C.
“You got any spare change?” The voice came from a young woman sitting on the sidewalk on the Berkeley street corner where I was waiting for the walk signal.
To take my mind off an impending migraine headache, I could’ve gone to a movie, gone home to nurse my migraine, or served Divine Spirit by putting up flyers on the university campus for an upcoming Eckankar seminar in San Francisco. I had chosen to put up flyers. I had only three flyers left and was headed to a nearby juice bar to quench my thirst.
I turned to examine the owner of the voice. She didn’t look like the usual street-corner panhandler. Her clear blue eyes and smiling countenance belied her circumstances.
Instead of spare change, I handed her a seminar flyer, briefly told her about Eckankar, and turned to cross the street.
“Oh, I know this man. I’ve met him.”
I turned back to find her looking intently at the photo of Harold Klemp on the flyer.
“Yes, that’s him,” she continued. “He lives in Oakland or somewhere around here, doesn’t he?”
“Well, actually, he lives in Minnesota. But he comes to people all over the world in times of need. How did you meet him?”
The young woman, whose name was Rainbow, told me her harrowing story. Two men had abandoned her in a dangerous part of Oakland after trying to take what little money she had. She had been terrified they would return to harm her.
Frozen with fear and confusion, she had cowered in the street, paralyzed, not knowing where to go or what to do next. Suddenly a man had appeared from nowhere. “God is always with you,”; he had said. “You are never alone.”
He warned her she was in grave danger where she was. “You need to find a bus and get to a safer area.”
His intervention broke her paralysis. She had caught a bus back to Berkeley, ending up on my street corner. “After he left,” Rainbow added, “I thought to myself, He’s a really nice person. I bet he loves animals.”
“Yes, he does indeed.” By now I was sitting beside her on the sidewalk, smiling and nodding at everything she said.
“What’s his name? I forgot.”
“Harold Klemp.”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Sri Harold?” I ventured.
“No.”
“Harji?” No again. Maybe he had given her his spiritual name.
“Wah Z?” I finally asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said, relieved. “What was that name again?”
“Wah Z.”
“Yes.” She appeared to be absorbed in the memory of that moment—the sound and sight of Wah Z’s presence.
A bright light shone all around her. She had indeed been touched by Divine Spirit, and I felt honored to be a witness to her linkup with the Mahanta, the Living ECK Master. Rainbow had indeed been a colorful gift from God on a gray street corner. When I finally bid her good-bye and continued on my way, I realized with gratitude that by choosing service and experiencing a day of divine love, my migraine had failed to manifest! I have not had one since.