There are many chela stories of the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ’s protection; among the best are those of “Kaden.” The two related here occurred when he was a teenager, years before he learned of the Master.

At age sixteen, he returned home to Lebanon, his birthplace. It was 1976, around the onset of the civil war between Muslims and Christians. That war cost many lives. Kaden could twice have been numbered among the dead had it not been for the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ’s intervention.

Kaden figures he came to earth with seven lives. So there were five more lives to go after the main hostilities had finally ceased.

It happened like this.

He and two new Lebanese buddies, “Latif” and “Abbas,” were average youths of their era, enjoying pastimes like pinball machines and other amusements. Then the civil war caught up them and their friends. They split up. Some joined the leftist Muslims, some the conservative Christians, but Kaden remained neutral.

But neutrality was no guarantor of safety.

One night, a terrible battle took place just north of Beirut, where he was living. More than two thousand Muslims died in what later turned into a two-day conflict.

Next day, Muslim patrols in Beirut were out for revenge. They rounded up Christians all around the city. These were driven off in cars to be shot, and these were the very conditions under which Kaden dared to venture into the streets. But his was a mission of mercy. A newly born niece was in urgent need of medicine.

Coming around a corner, he blundered into a roundup. It meant certain death.

However, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ intervened in a dramatic and surprising manner.

A fighter with a machine gun stopped him. “Where’s your ID?” Kaden did not carry it. He lived in the part of Beirut controlled by Muslims. An ID card listed one’s name and religion, which would have proven damning, given that he was a Roman Catholic.

Other fighters joined them. They demanded to know his place of birth. Luckily, the town’s population was divided evenly among Muslims and Christians. Nor did his name betray his faith. Generally, Christians at least had Christian first names.

Then, the question that sealed his fate: “Religion?”

“Christian.”

“Get in the car!”

Suddenly, someone yelled his name. It was Abbas, his pinball-playing friend. He held a machine gun. “He’s a friend of mine. Let him go!” While his captors stepped aside to discuss him, Abbas came up and hugged him. “Go now, and be careful.”

Six more lives to go. The Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ obviously wanted Kaden around.

Months passed. Many cease-fires came and went. Curfews were by then routine.

One night, Kaden and a friend decided to take a break from all the madness. They took a chance to sneak out for a smoke. It was as he later observed: “Foolish decisions bring on foolish circumstances.”

Foolish they were, two Christians at large in a Muslim-controlled part of the city, after curfew.

A jeep patrol screeched to a stop. Fighters with AK-47s jumped out. “Hey, you, what’s your name?” “Kaden.” The man behind the mounted gun shouted, “Do you remember me? I’m Latif’s brother.”

Confidently, Kaden replied, “Hello there; how’s Latif?” He tried to sound natural. Their banalities fooled the gunmen, who warned the two off the streets before driving away. Actually, Kaden had only met the brother for a brief moment, a year ago. He had run into him and Latif by chance and was baffled that the brother even remembered him.

Kaden reflected, “The Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ had also set up this momentary ‘chance’ encounter. I had used up a second life.”

But five more lives to go.

Some of you have heard compelling stories like this of the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ’s love and power. Souls want and hunger for these true accounts for assurance, until they have their own proofs.

Stories like this, and others, reach deep into the heart. Encourage their telling.

—Sri Harold Klemp

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Every ECK chela enjoyed the guidance and protection of the Master before ever finding ECK. Do you have a story waiting to be told?

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