In ‘Growing Up with The Mother’, Tara Jauhar presents a communication which she had with The Mother on Promesse:
Mother, every day I type out what you write, and Promesse takes it to the School to show it to the other teachers, and they like it very much. And now some teachers are giving me questions to ask you.
The Mother laughed and said: Good! It is very good!
In that simple exchange there was an entire world — the Mother’s guidance, the teachers’ reverence, and, at the epicentre of it, the unwavering, childlike devotion of Promesse, who carried Her precious words beyond himself to others as well.
The Magic Circle
Tara recounts an incident when Promesse was still a child:
“In the late 1940s, the Mother started seeing Chum, Jhumur and Bubu every day at noon. They would go up the Meditation Hall staircase and wait for Her at the ‘landing’ — a tiny room at the top of the stairs with four doors. The Mother called them ‘my three friends’.
Some time in 1949, my little brother Promesse, who was only two and a half years old, and I joined this group. Our group had a small ceremony every day. After we had offered our flowers to the Mother, She would carefully select flowers for each of us, and then give us each a big red tomato. We would then form a little circle by placing our arms on one another’s shoulders and place our heads together. Promesse would stand in the centre of the circle. The Mother would pull us close to Herself until each head came into contact with Hers.
Then She would concentrate for some time in this fashion before bidding us au revoir. I was placed on the Mother’s left, with my right arm over Her shoulders. I always took care to place my hand gently on Her shoulders. Her arm extended over my shoulder as far as it could go. The pressure of Her arm was firm and strong as She pulled us towards Her. She called this little ceremony, Le cercle magique (the magic circle).
She explained to us that while She concentrated thus with us, a golden thread came out of Her head and passed through ours and returned to Her. And thus, She knew exactly what was going on in our little heads.”
Promesse — The Animal Lover
