Nevertheless, I left for India and once I was with Maharajji, I kept up regular correspondence with her. I related to her in detail all that was happening to me and in general in the ashram. In this way the habits and the life in the ashram became familiar to her and interested her deeply. After all, she said to me, she did not see much difference between life there and life in her own Catholic monastery.
After the six months, I returned to Holland and visited her. On this occasion, I showed her pictures of Maharajji, Sacha Dham ashram, the people who were living there and the Ganga, etc. One of the pictures of Maharajji in particular, pleased her.
“Could you give me this one?” she asked.
“Of course, it is yours!” I answered.
And she put this picture near Jesus, on her altar.
After having worked for five months in Holland, I returned to India for six months. In her first letter, my aunt explained to me that even though she didn’t write often, she thought of me every day, especially because the picture of my Master was on her altar. And, she added, she was very grateful to Maharajji that he took very good care of me.
One afternoon a few months later, I was sitting on the verandah in front of Maharajji’s room, when Swami Midhaji brought me a letter from my aunt (I received all my mail at the address of the ashram). After the news, she wrote,
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you before, but your Guru has become my spiritual guide. I ask him everything and he always answers me in my heart.”
I was so touched that I couldn’t hold back my tears. At that moment Maharajji opened his door. He looked at me with a big mocking smile so I stood up and started to speak to him about my aunt, but he did not listen and continued his way. Just before he disappeared around the corner of the verandah, I called out loudly,
“Yes,” he answered and turned to me.
“Maharajji, you have many Western disciples, don’t you?”
“Yes, many!” he said with emphasis.
I understood that Maharajji took care of all of those who were in the hearts of his disciples. This story is all the more remarkable since Maharajji left his room that day at a time when he never usually went out. He certainly knew of my aunt’s letter from the beginning.