A Boy Named Lakhan: Part One
This is a story of self-discovery and determination. It is the story of a five-year-old autistic boy who I met at a children's center at Meherabad,* in mid-central India, in November 2023. Mostly it is a story of trust and love.
In January 2019, my spiritual teacher* of sixteen years had told me that I was to sell my home (it was 1400 sq. ft.) and build a small one. By March 2021, the sale was accomplished, a deposit made on land, and I was living in a temporary apartment. Every morning I awoke at 5 a.m. to walk to the plot. On April 20th, I had just turned back as the sun's first rays broke free of the horizon's dim light. After pausing to watch the orange curve slowly rise, I had started homeward when again I was stopped, this time by my inner voice.* "You are being permanently reassigned to America." On May 21st, I landed at the international airport near my family’s home in the Northwest.
By late October 2022, I had received new guidance to return temporarily to Meherabad. I left in late January 2023 on a ten-week pilgrimage. I felt deeply grateful to return to its spiritual surroundings and the daily step into Samadhi, the small prayer building on the hilltop. At 78, I had found a new way to offer service, joining those who gathered at 6 a.m. for an opportunity to take part in the supervised cleaning of the small, inner sanctuary.
It was on my second pilgrimage, seven months later, from October 2023 to April 2024, that from my arrival at Meherabad, I had become a daily visitor to a children's center. Each morning, I arrived at 8:30, excited and full of hope that on that day I would find my way to more fully participate and make a difference. My learning kept increasing—about the children's activities and the staff's responsibilities for teaching, food preparation, bathing the young children, and supervising their outdoor activities. So far, I continued to be without a discovery of that perfect opportunity for me to more fully engage.
One morning during the second week, I had suddenly become aware of a smaller boy in the group of children in the five-to-six age range. He was noticeably not listening to the teacher and didn't have the materials the other children had. This smaller boy was always sitting. Was something wrong with his legs? I thought that perhaps I could be of help if I walked with him. I stepped among several children to move closer, and as I looked directly at him, I noticed that my look was returned. Reaching my hand out, I watched as he stood up and took several shaky steps toward me, then took my right hand. Moving his left hand into my left hand, and now taking his right one with mine, I guided him to stand directly in front of me. Asking the teacher for his name, with my back straight, I leaned slightly forward so Lakhan's hands were by his waist. We would move only if he took a step.
My realization is, "There is a role that each of us may play, perhaps having appeared from an inauspicious moment, that brings forth our joy."
* The site of Avatar Meher Baba's Tomb-Shrine (Samadhi) and of world pilgrimages as well as the Avatar’s early primary residence and ashram, and the headquarters of His activities until 1944; now overseen by the Meherabad Trust.
* Colonel Dinesh Chibber, my retired spiritual teacher.
* My inner voice began in June 1990 with the words, "My cup runneth over." (Ps. 23: 14).
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