A Child Returned
When I went into labor on February 11, 1980, my husband and I had already arranged with the doctor not to have any unnecessary conversation or bright lights in the delivery room. After the baby was born, the staff would leave us alone for a minute with our new child.
So, after seven pushes, our son, Paul, was born at 8:55 p.m. He was cleaned up and brought back to me, and my husband and I each held one of Paul’s little hands and did a short HU Chant. We explained that he was in a physical body and we were his earthly parents for this incarnation. He relaxed once he knew what was going on.
As the months speedily passed, Paul grew into a chubby, smiling baby. He didn’t have much hair yet, just a golden fuzziness—but he had bright-blue, knowing eyes. He went to many ECK functions with us and seemed to enjoy them.
One day in October, he seemed unusually sad and fretful. I put him down for his midmorning nap and played a recording of “Paulji* Talks to the Children” to help settle him down a bit. Meanwhile I read the beautiful poetry of Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat. Suddenly, I realized the time had flown; it was nearly noon. I jumped up to make my husband’s lunch.
Paul certainly was sleeping a long time. He hadn’t napped this long (about two hours) in quite a while. I checked to see if he was awake yet. He seemed sound asleep, but as I bent over the crib, his color seemed peculiar. I touched him; he wasn’t breathing or moving at all. Gently I shook his shoulder and then lifted him up. He was all slack and rubbery in my arms.
I laid him on the floor and quickly started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I was alone in the apartment, working frantically over my baby, my heart beating so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Suddenly a warm, strong hand squeezed my shoulder. Gently I looked up. It was Rebazar Tarzs, the great ECK Master, with my son in his other arm. The beautiful smiles on their faces took away all my fear and anxiety. Then I realized others were standing there too—Paul Twitchell and a shy-looking, slim man, wearing dark-rimmed glasses, whom I would later recognize as Sri Harold Klemp. There was a soft golden glow around them.
I called my husband, and we rushed to the hospital. But, of course, it was too late. I already knew my son was truly happiest where he was now.
As the months went by, I continued to see my son in my dreams. He was developing at about the same rate as he would have on the physical plane. I watched him progress from a chubby, crawling baby to a laughing toddler.
Then, during one dream visit in the summer of 1982, I noticed Paul was getting younger and smaller. I couldn’t understand it. I asked the Inner Master why, but no answer came. By fall he was back to being a newborn. Then his appearance began changing to that of a baby girl with black, wavy hair.
When the pregnancy test came back positive in October (the same day that Paul had passed on into the inner spiritual worlds, two years before), I really began to wonder. I didn’t wonder any longer when, at 6:00 a.m. on May 29, 1983, I gave birth to a black-haired baby girl.
The ECK sometimes works in mysterious ways, but eventually all is made clear.
*Paul Twitchell, the modern-day founder of ECKANKAR, was also known as Paulji to his beloved students.