Hilda Remembered

Hilda Charlton • PIONEERS OF THE SOUL
CHAPTER TWELVE—Memorial service

Hilda at the Loft in NYC

Hilda passed on at ten o'clock on the morning of January 29, 1988. A memorial service was arranged for Sunday, February 14, Valentine's Day, at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in the large hall of the Synod House, with its beautiful arched ceiling, where she had held her classes for so many years..

More than 2,000 people came to show their love and gratitude — some who had steadily attended her classes for as many as twenty-three years, some who had come only once but had been so transformed as to never forget her..

A program of music and speakers included her hosts at the two places where she regularly held meetings — the Cathedral and the Hindu Temple in Flushing, Queens, two of her students whose work was in the public eye, and the members of her household..

A peach-colored urn containing her ashes was set in the front of the room before the stage so that those speaking faced it and the audience sat around and behind it. At each of her meetings people had brought her flowers, which were placed in vases on a table by her side on the stage. Many, many people brought her flowers on this day, which were arranged around the urn..

As at Hilda's classes, songs of devotion were softly sung by the musicians and the audience before the program began, and soloists sang songs evoking the atmosphere of Hilda's love and teachings. And also as at Hilda's classes, tears and laughter, devotion and celebration of the deepest kind prevailed.

INGRID

On behalf of everybody, I welcome everybody. It's so great for us all to be together in memory of our beloved Hilda Charlton. Some of us here now only came to one meeting. Others only heard a tape of her or heard of her from a friend. Others of us came to almost every meeting for many years. But one thing we all had in common is the experience of being transformed by the presence of Hilda and her Lessons of Life. We have come today to honor her. Her wish was that this be a joyous occasion, because she despised the somber worldly custom of mourning the passing of a soul to the other side. Therefore we will have an afternoon of music, recollections of her life, and the wonderful Mary dance, which will be performed by Kathy. Hilda choreographed this dance and once upon a time danced it herself with incredible grace. Music, poetry, all arts and artists were so very dear to her heart.

To begin, we'll have Dr. Wally, whom we all know.

  • Hello and peace, my brothers and my sisters. Today is February the 14th, Valentine's Day. And it reminds me of "Oh, how I love you, Hilda." I remember the first class I came to. I was brought here by Larry and Ilene and I sat right in front, about eleven years ago. Hilda's words touched my heart and all I could think of was "Oh, how I love you, Hilda." The energies then were very similar to today. I didn't understand them, but I cried and I laughed, and they both were all going on at the same time. Again I felt "Oh, how I love you, Hilda."

    Someone gave me her phone number a few weeks later and I called her, not knowing what I was going to say. I was surprised that she answered the phone. Again, I spontaneously said, "Oh, how I love you, Hilda" because I didn't know what else to say. She asked me why I called. I said things were happening in my life and I was frightened and very confused. She said, "Please come to the class tonight." It was Friday night. I went to the class and she surrounded me with light, and she had the people pray for me. All fear left. There was no more fear. Not even today. And she brought out in me the goodness, the responsibility, the concern, the integrity, the love, the humanity, all the attributes that she possesses.

    Just recently, she wrote a note to my wife, Phoebe. I'd like to read a portion of it, which will remind you of Hilda. She wrote, "To Dr. Wally's patient, kind, serene, noble and loving wife, Phoebe: Here is a little tiny love offering towards your home phone bill that he has run up because of me. I give you full permission to rebuke him once a month, even yell, if you want. The rest of the time, be a patient, kind, serene, noble and loving human being."

    Hilda is a patient, kind, serene, noble, and loving human being. She is a dedicated, fully integrated, humane, loving, joyful, peaceful and, oh yes, playful person whose integrity never allowed her to compromise her ideals and who honored and blessed us by her presence.

    Today is Valentine's Day, and oh how I love you, Hilda, but I loved you before and I'll continue loving you forevermore. And any time I do a patient, kind, serene, noble, loving act for people or for the planet, I will dedicate it to you. Ingrid: Thank you, Dr. Wally. With great gratitude, I call upon a very important figure in Hilda's spiritual mission in New York, Dean Morton, the Very Reverend Dean Morton, who is responsible for hosting Hilda's Lessons of Life class here at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine for the past twelve years. I had wanted to say more in praise of him, but he wouldn't let me.

  • I'm full of all sorts of thoughts. First of all, whenever I'm introduced as the Very Reverend, that stops me, because I mean, what does it mean? We had an archbishop here this morning and archbishops are called the Most Reverend. And so I said to the archbishop, "You know, it's okay if someone says, 'You're really the most,' but it's not so great if someone says, 'You're really very,' which is what I am. Hilda would just roar with all of those stupid kinds of things — the Very Reverend, the Most, all of that.

    It's so beautiful to see all of Hilda's friends, because I see Hilda when I see you.

    I would like to say a couple of things about how Hilda came to the Cathedral. A very old friend of mine is the rector of St. Luke's Church in the Village, where Hilda's public meetings began. But of course they outgrew the gymnasium, where they were held. And so Ledlie called me and he said, "The Cathedral is bigger than St. Luke's and we have this very strange woman here by the name of Hilda Charlton and she has this fabulous meditation group." I said, "Well, tell me a little bit about it." He said, "Well, it's very difficult to describe." I said, "Is she wacky? What do you mean?" There was a pause, and he said, "She's holy." And I said, "Oh! Well, I'll come down." So I came down and went to what was one of the last sessions down there. You should have seen it. How many of you were down in St. Luke's? It was like sardines. I mean, it was absolutely jam-packed.

    So I met her, and she said, "I understand we can come up to the Cathedral possibly?" And I said, "Yes." It was simpler to say, "Yes" than anything else. And so she's been here ever since.

    And the incidents, oh there are lots of incidents I can recall, but one incident I want to share with you, because I'll never forget it. She had been here about a year, so she had gotten a feel of the Cathedral and we had gotten to know each other. She said, "I want to walk around with you in the Cathedral." I said, "Okay." And so we walked around. This must have been around 1976, because I was going through a lot of trouble. That can happen to anybody. But I was going through a lot of trouble with respect to certain things here at the Cathedral. Not everything that I was doing, such as having Hilda's meditation group here, met with universal approval. And there were even some who would have liked to see me elsewhere. I was really under a lot of heat at that time. And so, as all of us do in times like that, I looked for all the help I could get. Hilda said, "I just want to walk around with you."

    We were walking around in the Cathedral, and she said, "Do you know the Dean who was here before you?" And I said, "Well, there are a lot of them." She said, "The one who'd gotten into all of that trouble." And I said, "Well, many of them did." And she said, "What's his name?" I said, "Do you mean Dean Pike?" She said, "Yes." She said, "I've been talking to him." Of course, he had died 15 years ago. And I said, "Say more." And she said, "He said you'll be okay." I don't think she knew the politics of the church, but she said, "You're having some trouble. There are people who are really giving you a hard time." I said, "Yes, that's true." She said, "Well, Dean Pike, he knows, he understands, because he went through it too. He just wanted you to know to stick with it and you'll be okay." Then she told me she'd been talking to various of the bishops who were buried around the Cathedral. I said, "What did they have to say?" She said, "Just keep going the way you're going and it'll be okay."

    So, I can't tell you what it means at one level that Hilda won't be calling up on the telephone. I'll miss her very much. But at a deeper level, I don't miss her at all, because she's very much here, just like Pike and all those dead bishops. She makes them come alive. That is, I think, the bottom line of what spirituality is for all of us. We move to different places, to different spaces. The continuity is there, because that's why we're here.

    Hilda was one of those great — not just teachers, but bringers about of the continuity of the experience of the reality, so that you enter into communion with God right then and there. And if that would stop with her death, then the whole thing's a joke. Right? So, there is really no problem, except we'll miss seeing her, you know, on Thursday. But we'll see her shortly. Thanks!

Ingrid: Thank you so much, Dean Morton. It is with great love and respect that I introduce Dr. Alagappan, the chairman and founder of the Hindu Temple Society of North America. He is responsible for founding the Jyoti movement with Hilda's support and inspiration, which honors the Eternal Godhead or the Goddess of Light and which has erected temples to her. He was instrumental in arranging the use of the Hindu Temple in Queens for the Skanda/Jyoti Puja at the full moon of each month, where Hilda delivered the messages of Lord Skanda.

  • Friends, I'm just now coming from a joint meeting of the Board of Trustees and the Executive Committee of the Hindu Temple Society of North America. They passed a resolution, which they've asked me to transmit to this group here. "The Board of Trustees and the Executive Committee place on record with their deep sense of appreciation the sterling contribution made by Ms. Hilda Charlton as a member of the Board of Trustees since its inception on January 26, 1970. Ms. Charlton, besides imparting an ecumenical leadership, has played a major role in developing the Jyoti philosophy and the Jyoti movement." This is the text of the resolution. It speaks for itself.

    You see, when the Hindu philosophy came to this continent in the last century, with the aid of Swami Vivekananda, the temples had not come. This Jyoti movement started only in this century and coincided with the Bicentennial celebrations of this great country. But when the effort started to build the temples, one of the first to be built was the temple in Flushing, and somehow God brought Hilda into the group two days before its first meeting. It was started with a fifty-one dollar check. But then, Hilda was there, and so was her grace. Her contribution was, as the resolution states, an ecumenical leadership.

    You know, all religions are the same. They lead to the same Godhead. So a religion becomes the practice of a set of people in a particular geographic region. Hilda tried to bring this about and dilute the orthodoxy, the rituals, et cetera, of the people who had brought it. Now, the symbol of this temple became a light surrounded by the insignias of all religions: Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Islam and so on. So, it is this type of contribution that Hilda made in the beginning. And the temple at Flushing, Queens was a pioneer, in a sense, and it has brought a movement of temples on this continent.

    There are now over thirty temples and all of them have this ecumenical character. It is indeed an important contribution made by Hilda. Then, as it was mentioned, Hilda has been there right from the start of this Jyoti movement. Shrines have been erected for Jyoti in New York, Houston and Los Angeles. From here, it has gone to India and a major project is now in the making. And it was our hope that we could have invited Hilda to come and consecrate that shrine and the philosophy there.

    Let me explain what this Jyoti is. She is the Eternal Godhead which is the Goddess of Light. According to the Hindu legends, the Universal Mother gave the vel of knowledge to a young son of seven, Skanda, to go and do battle. This vel is said to be one of the forms of the Goddess of Light given by Shakti, the Mother, this vel of knowledge is also called Saravanabhavayai , or sister of Skanda, or jnana or the absolute truth. Now, we go one step from there to say, "What is this jnana, this knowledge?" The knowledge is to see God in everything in all creation. And so social service is the best form of religion.

    This is the Jyoti philosophy to which Hilda subscribed. Hilda was at all times in contact with the celestial beings. She was able to transmit the message of jnana. She gave it a vibrant quality by doing these pujas at the Hindu Temple close to every full moon for quite a few years. The interesting thing is, whenever Hilda came to the temple each month that was the time when the temple acquired a new quality of vibration, a sanctity and a presence of divinity far greater than on any other occasion. So, she was always welcome and so was the group.

    Now, as a person, I mean, she obviously, as all of us know, was an instrument of God from the word go. She transmitted the orders and the messages of Lord Skanda. She did not believe in acquiring luggage in a journey through life. She couldn't be bothered with worldly goods. She did not cast her eyes on them at all. She didn't want to have disciples — excuse me, her disciples — or institutions or an ashram. She didn't want any of these things. She couldn't be bothered. She could perform miracles. She did quite often. She could cure sick people. She could do things, but she did it in such a low key that she was not even conscious of it. She believed that the technology of religion was not important. For her, the ethics were much more important. Ethics towered above all that.

    I have a story of an Indian gentleman who learned how to walk on water. He spent ten years doing this. Then he went to a greater sage and said, "Oh sage, I have learned to do something wonderful." He asked, "What?" He said, "I can walk on water." The sage asked, "How much time did you spend on this?" He said, "I have spent ten years learning this." So the sage said, "You idiot! If you only pay five cents, you can go by boat. Why did you waste your time?" You understand? So, there is no reason, no need to acquire all these paraphernalia or capacities. It is better to be good. And that is what Hilda taught us always. Of course, I know, in the Christian world, they always say that so-and-so, after passing away, gets well-deserved rest. I believe that we should not give Hilda any rest. I believe we must make her work for us, keep her in the lotus of our heart, put in our specific prayers and request her to guide us. I believe that we can integrate her principles in our life. That is the best tribute we can pay to her. And if we become, even to a fraction of a degree, a better instrument of God, that's what Hilda would have liked. Thank you.

Ingrid: Thank you, Dr. Alagappan. I'm sure everyone here could speak on the specialness of Hilda and how she so powerfully affected them. However, such a venture would take weeks, even months, so we've asked a few of her students to speak tonight. It is much to our regret that all cannot publicly share their personal account of the miracle of Hilda's life on Earth.

Danny Goldberg, David Silver and Hilda

  • I'd just like to start off by saying that it's really wonderful to see you all here, those of the recent classes and those of long ago and in between. It really makes me very, very happy. We're Hilda's family. We're her children. You're my brothers and sisters. And together we inherit on this Earth what she has given.

    Every now and then, since time began, God sends to Earth one of His very own to save an ailing humanity. Our Father sends us a big brother or a big sister to help us younger siblings, stumbling in the dark, to find our way back home. Filled with His love, overflowing with His peace and exuding His bliss, Hilda, Shanti Devi, Lazumma was one with His eternal essence and now is the golden essence of God. This treasure Hilda shared with us, week after week, month after month, year after year.

    Surely there was no sparseness of God's teachings through our Hilda. As Hilda, we loved her dearly. She made us laugh. She made us cry. She made us feel what it is to be fully human. Most importantly, she made us feel what it is to be fully divine. She made us reach within and touch our own spirit, God residing in our hearts. Her joy was our joy, our sorrow, her sorrow, and when she cried for us, we cried with her. As Shanti Devi, the yogini, and as the Divine Mother, she beseeched us to give and forgive — to give to each other the jewels of God that she has given to us.

    Hilda's life was her teaching — a life of giving and forgiving, loving everyone under all circumstances, and remembering, nay, being God. Her words of truth and love ring in our hearts. Our souls reverberated with her every breath. Thousands who attended her classes, and tens of thousands more who knew her, grew closer to God within the shower of her love and grace. She had a divine knack for relating differently to each and every one of us and yet so perfectly meeting the deepest needs of heart and soul. In her presence, we truly felt loved — loved by Hilda and loved by God. Hilda saw God within us and brought Him forth from within our hearts. The Earth was a better place for her presence and a bit lost without her, but through us all she will live on. For as we live her teachings, singing the song of love in our lives, of giving and forgiving, remembering who we are — embodiments of the Divine — Hilda Lazumma, we will march on to the glory of God.

    I'D LIKE, NOW, TO READ A POEM SHE WROTE IN HER EARLIER DAYS.

    I behold within God's hand
    My pure and reborn soul,
    Cleansed by His grace am I,
    Like freshly fallen snow.
    This breath is sweet and comforts me
    In moments of my birth,
    For every step I take will be
    His own upon the Earth.
    I will wander through the heavens
    And soar in every sky,
    Melting in Your sea of love,
    You, my God, and I.
    And as I see this world anew
    My heart is filled with bliss.
    There is no greater treasure, Lord,
    For me to find than this.
    Lay down my soul within Your hand
    My soul as free as wind and sea
    The purest flower has grown.

    Hilda Lazumma, Goddess of Light, Mother of Liberty, you live forever in our hearts.

  • When I first came to Hilda's several years ago, I came and I looked at the class as I'm looking at it now. And I said, in my own selfish way, "There are hundreds and hundreds of people here. How is she going to notice me? How is she going to love me and care about me with all these people?" But when I started to go to her house, I saw how much she loved me, just in all the little ways she cared about me and about all of you, the way she so tenderly and conscientiously read your letters and talked to you on the phone. I came to the understanding that even if she loved ten thousand people, she wouldn't love me any less. She showed me worlds and times and places that I wouldn't know otherwise. She showed me myself.

    She was excited about so many things. Each new thing that came along, she was just as excited about that as about the last thing, whether it was vitamins that we all had to take or some new shampoo for balding that all the men were supposed to use. I remember one thing that was a lot of fun, and that I learned a great lesson from: She was watching late night television and Uri Geller came on and he was bending spoons. She got really excited about that and said, "He's bending spoons with psychic power, but we can bend spoons with love. We're going to use the power of love." So there were about twelve of us all sitting around bending spoons in the living room, focusing and just loving the spoons and getting them to bend. There's not one normal spoon in the house to this day. That was what she represented, love and the power of love. She believed that we could do anything with love, and she tried to instill that in all of us.

    Someone came to the house and we were sitting in the kitchen reminiscing about Hilda. They said, "You know, when Hilda was alive, I felt like I was under a small [magnifying glass], but now that she's not with us in her physical body any longer, I feel like I'm under a giant [magnifying glass]." She was always aware of everything that was happening and everything around. We always tried to fool ourselves thinking, "Well, maybe Hilda doesn't know about it." But we can't fool ourselves anymore.

    That feeling was really present with me the morning they called from the hospital and said, "Come, she might not live through the day." I was in the bathroom getting ready. I was just doing my normal thing and I felt her presence, her spirit come into the bathroom with me, into such a little homely place. She was there. It was so clear that I could hear her talking to me, and I knew that when I went to the hospital, there was going to be no sadness there for me. I just felt an incredible happiness in my soul for her, that she would be where she needed to be to do the work that she needed to do. I knew that she would be there even more for me now than she ever was before and that for each of us, she could be with us in a much more personal way than she could be in her physical presence, because she couldn't be with us all the time then. She can be with us all the time now. I know that she is still on Earth, in our minds and in our hearts.

  • When I first went to Hilda's meeting at St. Luke's in I think it was 1972, I was so in awe of how spiritual everybody at the meeting was. I was sure that they would throw me out the minute that they perceived my clunky vibrations and my earthly thoughts. I feel that way at this moment, trying to find the words to live up to Hilda. But then I hear her saying, "Unworthiness! Fooey! Speak like a Master!" Well, I'll give it a try. I always felt that she treated me like a retarded child that she had a great deal of affection for and so she kind of let me get away with stuff that other people didn't get away with. Maybe it's because I lived out of town, I don't know.

    I'd like to talk about what I've been going through. I don't know about you, but I haven't taken this particularly easily. I know that's not the most cosmic reaction, but it's been a really complicated and not always easy couple of weeks. I was in Los Angeles and the only person who lives in that area who knows Hilda is someone I haven't spoken to in five years. How do you explain to people who don't know her who Hilda was? Someone called me about possibly helping to get her obituary in the New York Times. I don't know whether it ever ran, but what would it say? "Hilda, Also Known As The Goddess of Light, Departs. Fifteen Gods Leave With Her."

    At this moment, I know that she's here, and I know that many of the Gods who stayed with her are here. Although I could never see you, oh Gods, I'd like to acknowledge you on behalf of all of us and thank you, because her life brought your blessings to us. So many people we learned about through her — Pericles, Suka, Mahadevananda, the Space Brothers, the Masters of the Great White Lodge, the American Indians, Manu, Skanda, Jesus, Saint Therese, Moses, Sai Baba, Nityananda, Yogananda, Sanat Kumara, Ammal, fifty others that I don't recall now, and yet, of course, we came here for her.

    My first reaction to Hilda's passing was one of numbness. I tried to bury myself in my work, and every once in a while, when I was driving, tears would come. So I would try to think of why I was crying. As Dean Morton said, "Obviously, she's fine." So I was certainly not crying for her. Unless every word she ever spoke was a lie, she's in a wonderful place most of the time, and right here right now. Then I felt guilty: "God, I should have spent more time with her. Look at the opportunities I missed. I could have gone to the last meeting. I could have called her more." And then I heard Hilda saying, "Guilt is useless, kid." Then I really realized that a lot of what I was feeling, as Lois was saying, was selfish. "What will I do now? How exactly am I going to carry on when I can't call her up and know that just by talking to her, everything I'm doing is somehow realigned and blessed?"

    I can only tell you that over a course of time I've come to feel that she's still here. One of the ways I know is, when she was in her body, I would always censor myself. If I thought of doing something, I would say, "Well, what if Hilda finds out?" I notice I still do that, and believe me, it's not because I'm worried about Al finding out. So I know that she's here in this room, and I know she's here in my heart and in my meditations and for all of us.

    The other day I was trying to talk to someone about her and I suddenly remembered that she had told us that in times of trouble we could look to the Psalms. I remembered that the psalm that she read so often was the 91st Psalm and I would like to read some of it.

    FROM PSALM 91

    He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High
    Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

    And then Hilda would say, "The secret place of the Most High, kids! Where is it?" And we always knew that we could get there with love.

    The psalm goes on...

    I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress.
    My God, in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee
    from the snare of the fowler and from the destructive
    pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers and
    under His wings shall thou find shelter. His truth shall
    be thy shield and buckler.

    And Hilda would say, "That's a promise from God, kids. It's not just a bunch of words on a piece of paper written a couple of thousand years ago. That's a promise from God. Take it into your hearts!"

    Thou shalt not be afraid of the terror by night,
    nor of the arrow that flyeth by day, nor the pestilence
    that walketh in darkness, nor the destruction that
    wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side
    and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come
    nigh thee.

    How many times she repeated that!

    She made this group a family. I don't suppose most of us would have known each other if it were not for her. And yet, any time for the rest of our lives, if we see each other on the street, we will remember her love. I call on God this moment to bless every one of us that we stay in harmony, live up to her aspirations for us, spread the light and love humanity and each other as she loved each of us. Thank you.

  • So many people have asked what it was like to spend a day with Hilda. Although I'm not sure one could ever say any day was a typical day with Hilda, I think the best you could say is that each day was an adventure and that no two days were ever alike. But one day does come to my mind and I would like to share it with you.

    Hilda got me up one morning and she said, "Karen, are you hungry?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Well, we can eat later." She said, "How would you like to go to Broadway? I'd like to get a gift for my goddaughter. I thought we could go to some of the stores." Now Hilda had some favorite stores on Broadway. Her favorite one was Weber's. There were a lot of discount stores on Broadway, and she had great fun looking in them and trying to get a good buy.

    So we got dressed and on our way to Weber's, at 104th and Broadway, there was a lady who was lying on a bench. Her legs were very, very swollen. She was a bag lady. Hilda stopped and she looked at her and she started to talk to her. She looked at me and there were tears in her eyes. She said, "We've got to do something for her. She's cold. She's hungry."

    So we went back to Hilda's house and with great love and affection, Hilda decided to make her a couple of sandwiches. I still remember this day as if it were yesterday. First she made her a couple of cheese sandwiches, and then she decided that she should put some lettuce on the sandwich, because she probably didn't have any green vegetables. Then she decided she needed some vitamin C, so we hunted around and found an orange. And of course we had to get her a napkin.

    Hilda said, "You know, she's cold. Let's find her a blanket." So we went to the hallway and got out a bunch of blankets. I thought that the brown one would be good, but Hilda said, "You know, if Jesus were here, he would say, 'Give your coat plus your cloak,' I shouldn't give her an old blanket. I should give her my favorite blanket." So we went into Hilda's bedroom. Hilda had a very soft, light blue blanket. It was the kind you just wanted to cuddle up in. Hilda said, "I want to give her this one. If we're going to give anything, I want to give this one."

    So then, of course, the phone rang and Hilda took a couple of calls and we prayed. I remember one call that was from Colorado, a woman with cancer. We prayed. After the phone call, in the living room, Hilda noticed that the plants hadn't been watered. So we did that too. And of course as she was watering the plants, she'd talk to each one. The one in the corner that Rajah, Shanti and Valli's father, had brought in once had been real little and was growing very tall. So Hilda talked to the plant for awhile. She said, "My, you're growing big and tall. It won't be too much longer before you'll outgrow this apartment." This was the kind of rhythm that we had.

    We then went to the lady. Hilda gave her the food, talked to her, and gave her the blanket. Then we went to the pizza shop on 103rd and Broadway. While we were there, a drunk came in. He was very bent over. He looked at Hilda and he started talking to her. He said, "You know I'm no good. I've ruined my life. I'm just no good." Hilda touched him on the forehead and she said, "Never say you're no good. You're a child of God." I never forgot that.

    I think the thing that moved me so much, being with Hilda, was that I never saw her treat anybody differently. Whether she was talking to the doorman, to someone who delivered groceries, to a priest, to disciples, she related to everyone's soul, and she loved everyone.

    Hilda accepted all paths. She accepted all religions, but as a young woman she gave herself to Jesus and it was Jesus whom she married. When we were working on the Dear Hilda book, Hilda wrote a talk on Jesus to be included in the book. She said to me that she felt that this talk summed up her personal spiritual relationship with Jesus. So I would just like to read a couple of paragraphs from the talk that Hilda wrote on Jesus.

    May I tell you a simple story of my Jesus, the one I know so well, the one I dearly love, who never died or rose but just is and never changes through eternity, never changes with the seasons, whether it be Christmas, Easter, summer, winter, fall or spring?

    I love him well, this Lord of mine. Perhaps, as my love story unfolds, this love so full might embarrass some of you whose heads are so full and hearts not yet simple. My heart overflows and tears run down my face as I think of the mighty man of will Who was always depicted on a cross, head down, blood dripping still. I took my Lord off the cross and found a mighty force, enough to build edifices around the world, even in villages of India and far off lands, though he trod this Earth two thousand years ago. Jesus started to teach me deep in my heart and head. He said, "Love is the answer. Love is divine. If you cannot love your brothers, then you cannot understand my life. I will have died in vain."

    In the ensuing years, until now, as I stand here old yet young, I have wiped his face in the thousands I have stood before and told of the nails mankind has driven into his flesh again and again and themselves, too. For he said, "What you do to the least of them, you do unto me." And as I wipe each face, each bleeding heart, and with gentleness remove all fear from what man calls so loosely "mankind" and I call "him," I have felt his love well up within me and burst my heart into a thousand lights, brighter than the noonday sun.

    He dwells deep within my heart, whose binding strings he did release and under his guidance, I've drawn a large circle, its circumference wide, wide enough to take in all mankind, no matter what their creed, be it Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Christian. All are one to him who loved mankind enough to spill his blood. All he asked of us is to love.

  • I had the grace and fortune to live in Hilda's home. Many a time she would say to me, "You know, when I pass, it'll be the small things that I do that you'll remember me by." In the last two weeks, I've thought a great deal about that and it's true. I remember the simple things that Hilda did, the very, very insignificant things — how she would clean the house so meticulously. She would clean a cupboard, straighten books, tear up papers, with a joy and an enthusiasm and a love that made it not insignificant, that made it as though she were doing something in the world, as though the heavens were changing with each tear of a paper. Whenever you would help her, you felt you were doing the greatest things in the world, and time seemed to stand still. She would always tell us about Saint Therese and her Little Way. To me that was how she lived her life, doing the little things that some people didn't notice.

    She loved all of us equally, whether we were famous or not. She made us feel that her love was so special, that she understood us like no other. And she made us feel that God loved us like no other. Hilda's enthusiasm for life was unparalleled. She could take something that was so mundane and make it so great. The National Enquirer is one of my favorite papers now, and I'd never heard of it or read it before. She could take an article in the National Enquirer and make a whole Thursday night class on it, and people would be quoting it like the New York Times. Whatever she did, she put her whole self into it with devotion and love.

    In the last month of her life, she read a great deal from a book on her Satguru, Nityananda.2 She said several times, "You know, in the past I always avoided the part of his passing, but I feel somehow now I can read it and it will have no effect on me." I know now what she meant. She often read stories from this book to us in the house. One in particular was of a young boy whose parents were devoted to the Master. He awoke from a dream on the day of Nityananda's passing and he told his parents, "The Master came to me and he said that he has to go. The great sages had come to him and there is work for him on the other side that only he can do."

    I know that Hilda devoted her life to us, giving us everything that she had, and it is now that the Masters of the Great White Lodge and the holy ones on the other side have work that only she can do. And she is about her Father's business now. Hilda was so much to all of us. Often she would tell us on a Thursday night of the great ones, her teachers who gave her so much in this life. All of us here, for the rest of our lives, will always be able to say, "I sat, I listened, I loved one of God's great ones, Hilda Charlton."

  • After a long night's vigil, eight of us stood in a small intensive care unit at the hospital not far from here, and on the bed that we surrounded was the body that Hilda Charlton used to teach us and to bring love through. We all stood in silence as the sound from the machine that monitored her vital life signs ended and there was only a beep. We stood in silence, each in our own world. Then within my mind, I heard her speak to me. She said, "Why is everybody so somber?" I looked and I saw a light coming into the room, and with this light came a wonderful sense of bliss. The light got stronger and stronger, stronger than any sunlight. I could hardly look into it for any length of time. Then it exploded with rays reaching out all over the Earth. I knew that this was Hilda's blessing, that these light rays were going out to all those who loved her. They were touching those who had met her, had heard her on a tape, had come to a meeting, had just heard someone talk of her. And that was confirmed so much in the next few days, as I talked to so many people. Each experienced in that moment, as so many of you have told me, a miracle.

    Bliss intensified in the room and my mind could only speak, "Hilda, thank you. Hilda, thank you. Hilda, thank you. Hilda, thank you for coming into our lives. Thank you for bringing love. Thank you for goading us on and pushing us up the path, for dragging us and inspiring us. Thank you." And I felt such a freedom. I felt she was free. The last part of her life was truly a sacrifice. She wanted to be here for all of us and she gave all of herself. It was a very difficult time, and now she was free.

    A little bit later, as I was walking home, I met a person who had had a grudge against me for eight years and as we talked the person said, "David, I don't know why, but I love you. I don't understand it, but I love you." That confirmed this wonderful blessing she left on the Earth. As I sat that day, letting the events of the day flow through me, a vision was sent to me. It was Hilda and she was standing with Saint Therese. They were together blessing the world. Then in a little while, another vision came, and there was Hilda again, standing with Ammal, and radiant, divine grace was flowing from them. Finally, she appeared once more and she stood with Mary. And then I understood. She was telling me that Mary hasn't left the world — she's appeared in so many places, she's appeared in China, in Yugoslavia, in Spain, in Portugal, all over the world. Ammal is always finding us parking places and finding lost keys, opening difficult situations up to us, breaking down barriers and leading us on. Saint Therese gave up her heaven world so she could be close to the Earth to be with us. And what Hilda was saying is that she too is here. Just like Saint Therese, she has stayed close to the Earth and she will be with us. Glory to you, Hilda!

Ingrid: There are two very special people so dear to Hilda's heart, always and forever, Valli and Shanti. Hilda raised them from infants and trained them in the spiritual life. We will first hear from Valli, and then Shanti will sing poetic songs that Hilda loved.

  • Hello. My earliest memories of Hilda are from when I was a toddler. In my mind's eye, I can see glimpses of myself in a walker, rolling down the hallway, chasing after Hilda and having Hilda and Shanti laughing hysterically. Hilda has retold this story to me many, many times. To this day, I'm unsure whether the memory is in fact hers or mine. All of those sensations and feelings of those early days are so real to me now. I can close my eyes, and Hilda, I can feel the warmth that you exuded and the calm that always surrounded you. I can even smell the sweet scent of a mix of incense and perfume that always went with you everywhere and stayed with everything you touched. These were only slightly betrayed by the strength of your hand and the lilt in your walk, which suggested and reminded us of the more forceful side of you, the one that I knew so well.

    I can remember you explaining everything to me. There were the mundane things, like how to use the washing machine. And then there were the times when you would sit me down when I was crying, and you would explain to me why I was here on this planet that seems so foreign, and that some day soon I would begin to understand it more, when I reacquainted myself here. These two worlds you've bridged so well came together for me in you, in your person, body and great soul.

    As I stood there, by your bedside, I found myself wondering what this planet, the one that you introduced me to, would be like without your presence. But I had to remember there was the other side, the real you, that would not disappear. I remember a story you told me of your father's passing and how all those years ago, you had nothing to comfort you because you had not yet come into understanding of this other life. I also remember how you told us that the Masters instructed you to let your own mother go and how she had released you.

    It is hard for me now, Hilda, to put this into words, because you were and are everything to me. You were my mother, my teacher and yes, even my pupil, as you told me when I came home from school at five years of age, so proud when I taught you some French words I'd learned that day. I still can feel the surprise I felt when I found out you didn't know everything. But as I grew older, I came to truly understand how much you knew in comparison to me and most everyone else.

    I remember walking down the street with you, holding your hand which was warm and soft. We'd take off briskly on a cold winter's morning before I began school, and your fuzzy cotton coat would rub against my cheek. I also remember those private moments when we would meditate, sometimes just you and I together, and we would go off for hours. Those other worlds, you introduced those to me also. And it's true, as I grew older we didn't always see eye to eye, but there's this part of my heart, Hilda, and there I know I cannot completely belong to anyone else the way I belong to you.

    And so here I was, standing by your bedside, and I remembered the last time I saw you, just recently before you passed. You took me into your room and you sat me down on your lap, and you said, "I'm so glad I have my little girl again." I think that if I could have had my way, I would have had time stop. I would have wished that we could stay that way forever. But as usual, you had a surprise up your sleeve, and that wasn't how it was meant to be.

    And so, as I leaned over to kiss you good night for the last time, as I'd done all my life, I think I came to an understanding. I had to let you go, because you were not mine and you were not ours to hold, but you were so much more. I knew that some day in the future, I would be with you again, close. Until then, I ask you, Hilda, to keep watch over me and all of us, and if you see us going a little bit wrong, just sort of nudge us back over. I just want you to know that we and I love you now and always. Thank you!

  • Valli is better at words than I am, and she's managed to put into those words a lot of the feelings about Hilda that I've been feeling over the past couple of weeks. Hilda was the one who taught me to meditate. She was the one who taught me to love God. She was the one who kissed my teddy bear at night. She was the one whose bed I would jump into if I was scared. So, to avoid speaking, I decided that the best way I could express my feelings for Hilda was through singing, since that's what I usually did. I usually sang for her. I chose these songs that she has had me sing time and time again, here and at home and just forever. I sang them for her again on Christmas. So I'll sing them for you once again, Hilda.

    Shanti sings.

It had been a tradition, at the final class of every year, that candles were distributed to each person, and, in celebration of the holidays, Hilda would take the white candle on the altar and light the candles of the people in the front of the room. In the darkened room, they in turn would light the candles of those behind them until all the candles in the room had been lit from the one flame. Then all would hold their candles high and sing. It was always an experience where one could feel the holy light of God and all present as one.

Ingrid: In this moment, let us light our candles and hold them, brightly shining, with Hilda, our Lord Jesus and the Masters of the Great White Lodge.

Everyone sings "Silent Night"

Hilda, we raise our candles in tribute to you and offer our gratitude and thank you for all that you have given us.

Flower in the night,
A stand for truth and right,
A master soul that takes my heart away,
Perched on high above,
Hands outstretched with love,
Breathing forth the sacred holy breath.
Lazumma, Lazumma, Lazumma, Aum

So let our spirits soar,
To touch the distant shore,
A rainbow warrior of planet Earth.
A new age filled with light,
With freedom, love and right,
Lazumma, fill my night with love.
Lazumma, Lazumma, Lazumma, Aum

[Lazumma, music and words by Larry Heisler]

That evening, as everyone sang "Silent Night" and then "Lazumma," a breeze was felt going through the hall, the same breeze that had been felt when Hilda had invoked the Holy Spirit. The candle flames of those standing near the urn of her ashes were blown so intensely that those candles quickly melted.

After the singing, soft music was played as people filed past her urn. Each person was given a flower.