A Cup of Tea
a witness of Elizabeth Clare Prophet and the ascended masters
by Susan Harrow
I do not remember the day or the hour. But I will
never forget the words she spoke to me. Those words will follow me into
other galaxies. Those words are etched upon my soul and recorded in
It was a day in California. There were many days
there that all seem to have slippped together into a pocket folder of
memory. I assisted Mother in her household, mostly providing meals.
And always wondering why I had been requested to take the taskbeing
unskilled altogether in the art of cooking.
And things needed to be just so. There were Mother's
preferences, of course, but then also the refinement of my soul in the
process. If you ignore the details, you don't always produce food that
is filled with love and perfection. When there are many details at the
same time, the mind must give up and the heart must take over. A fine
theory in retrospect, but it's not always easy to find the joy in the
midst of the discipline.
All kinds of situations came my way. Cooking here,
cooking there. Cooking on the spur of the moment. Doing this and doing
that while the vegetables burned. Mastering the art of being everywhere
at once and having everything under control, but often not being the
It was a testing and a trying but I knew it was
for the betterment of my being. I knew I had found the dharma (the teaching)
and the sangha (the community). I knew I had found the Buddha (the guru,
the enlightenment) who would lead me forward on my path. But sometimes
I wanted to do well just to get approval. Sometimes I disliked myself
a lot when I didn't get it. But the lesson seemed to be to keep on trying.
No matter what.
Sometimes the food wasn't hot enough, there was
too much or too little. Sometimes the vegetables were overcooked and
I had to start over. Sometimes there was no time to start over and the
opportunity was lost. Would that I had found more joy but often I found
the serious nature of the testing was the serious nature by which I
viewed my life and my path. Serious because I have always sensed that
this lifetime around, there is a lot at stake.
So it was a day like many others, cooking and serving.
The meal had concluded and in some way had been a disaster. The details
are gone from me. But I recall the feeling of utter hopelessness that
beset me. Once again I had failed. I had made a mess of things. Oh woe!
Would I ever make the grade? Be good enough? Be the master of this humble
task? And the last duty was to serve tea to Mother in her office before
I left. I dreaded it. Having made quite a fool of myself during the
serving of the meal, I just wanted to go away quietly. Not to be.
The office was large and deep in wood and flagstone
floor. Long were the windows and rich the seats of leather. Old England
come again. Mother sat in serious contemplation at her deep dark desk.
All within me hesitated. Yet I entered to take the drink, hoping that
the exploits of my day would not be commented upon. Hoping that silence
would release me no matter how uncomfortable the silence. But more often
God holds surprises, gifts in golden packages on days when they are
least expected. As I deposited the tea before her, Mother looked up
from her work. I braced myself to receive comment on the sorry state
of my being.
"You know," she said, "that I will always love
you...." Her heart, as often, opened like a flower, and love flowed
to me in that moment that is still stored within me for all its grace
and power. I am sure my tears fell. I am sure I could not speak. I do
not remember being able to do so. I just remember that for all that
I had done or not done, for all eternity's weaving of my path with the
path of the ascended masters and the Messenger, to have come to a moment
such as this was worth more than all the rewards the world could ever
There are many memories, but this is one of the
fondest. Fond not just because I felt loved and appreciated in that
moment. Fond because those words fly with me throughout my life. Fond
because those words are true. Fond because this kind of love is the
love of eternity. Where souls have met and been flung afar. When souls
have met again and remembered who they are.
And so to our beloved Mother with all my heart
I say, "You know that I will always love you."