The little orphan and I walked down the mountain to the city to buy shoes. She slipped out of her small rubber sandals into a new pair, carefully counted 45 rupees (less than one US dollar) into the shopkeeper's hand, and walked away.
"Wait! " I called, as I reached for the discarded shoes. "You've forgotten your old sandals. "
She glanced back at me, "No, leave them," she firmly replied. "I only need one pair. Leave them for someone who has none. "
The human heart has been so made by Love that, like a flint, it contains a hidden fire which is evolved by music and harmony, and renders us beside ourselves with ecstasy. These harmonics are echoes of that higher world of reality which we call the world of spirits...they fan into a flame whatever love is already dormant in the heart.
