"Stop, my son!"44
The day before yesterday, in the evening, I was running on 150th Street, near the bus stop. An old lady affectionately said to me, “Stop, stop!” so I stopped. Then, with such affection she said, “My son, my son, cold, cold, cold!” She had on a heavy winter coat and fur hat. I gave her a very broad smile and continued running.
RB 108. 16 October 1979↩
Sri Chinmoy, Run and become, become and run, part 2, Agni Press, 1979
