In homage to Murshida Fazal Mai Egeling

Murshida Fazal Mai Egeling was born on the 27th of March, 1861, and she lived most of her earlier days in quiet contemplation amidst the tall trees and sleeping waters of Netherlands’ romantic landscapes.
In the later part of 1921 she suddenly awakened to the object of her life’s purpose and swiftly joined the marching lines of those first initiated seen at the dawn of Sufism in the West bringing along many friends and followers, all of whom became leading powers of various Sufi activities.
«Murshid, I am here,» she said, as she entered into the service of the Universal Worship, where she stood aide by side with her Murshid as a pioneer of the Message, in truest dedication to the first Sufi altar erected in Fazal Manzil.
The gates of her Murshid’s home were forever engraved with inscriptions of gratitude to Fazal Mai, the Mother of blessings, in whose heart Fazal Manzil had become a symbol of that very temple where purest fruits of devotions were to be cultivated under the bright sunshine of spiritual guidance.
In this home each object was given a sacred duty to perform, and each member of her Murshid’s family was cherished as a living evidence of God’s presence, besides hundreds of yellow roses were planted all over the gardens as banners of Sufi ideals, henceforth conditioning all principles and hopes carried along the years.
Year after year and Sunday after Sunday she would lighten up the altar of the Universal Worship and offer an inspiring speech to her disciples in the cause for which she had devoted her heart and soul, reminding them time after time of the ten thousand workers to come in the service of God’s Message.
Her Murshid was no longer there to greet her with blessings and encourage her in her lonely strife, as her hair grew white and her health declined with the fall of autumn’s leaves.
But each day she would pull out of her wallet one of those deeply treasured words sent form India, to which her Murshid had left, never to return again. And while pressing these pages to her tear- filled eyes, she would gather new strength and inspiration, as she carried on and on till the last.
No words could ever reveal how exalting an experience it was to witness an instant so serene as that of her last smile, while tears of angelic bliss came rolling down her pale-white cheeks.
«Murshid, are you there?», she whispered in an inner outburst of spiritual rejoicing as though she was beholding the glorious image of her Murshid’s glance appearing to her enlightened soul.
With startled eyes glittering in sparks of devotion she stared awhile at the vision of paradise and then silently passed away, as by the grace of a godly touch. 6he was buried in Arnhem, Holland, in the last days of December, 1939.
And may her tomb be forever known as the sacred shrine of the First Moin- ul-Maham of the Universal Worship.
«...We offer our Reverence,
...our Homage ... and our Gratitude....»



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