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My husband and I
planned to visit a Subud couple, over in Berkeley, California and have dinner
with them. Our hostess, Lusijah, decided to invite another Subud friend, Elisa,
and called her up.
Lusijah: Hi, come
over to dinner Friday night, the Penwells are coming and they're bringing
lasagna!
Elisa: Oh, Lasagna
who? I don't think I've met her.
(Helissa Penwell)
Notice of
Bereavement
My wife and I were
live-in caretakers of a Subud house when one day a long-time member's wife died
and he placed a notice on the group notice board stating:
SUSANNAH - My
darling wife passed away last night. The funeral will be held... etc.
Next day, I walked
through into the kitchen where I saw our (non-Subud) cleaner standing reading
the notice board and gave her a cheery greeting.
"Are you
alright?' she asked, looking deeply concerned.
"Yes, fine
thanks. never felt better," I laughed. Noticing the shocked look on her
face, I asked, "Why? What's up?"
She pointed a
shaking finger at the bereavement poster and sobbed out, 'That!'
And then it
clicked. Her name was also Susannah, and
she'd thought the poster was a note from me telling her my wife had died.
(M)
A Subud member
travelled to a distant city to visit his aging father. On his first evening there he told his
father that he had a new name. The
father took this news pretty well even though the name was rather unusual. The
next day father and son went out for a stroll. Spotting a neighbour, the father
greeted him and said, "I'd like you to meet my son," then turning to
his son, —"what was your name again?"
(Rosalind Priestley)
I am a white, English male Subud member, living in
Ireland. Just before travelling to the Spokane World Congress I am collecting
some goods from a warehouse. I sign the
cheque using my Subud name. “That’s an unusual name”, says the assistant.
“Yes”, I reply, “It’s Arabic”. “I knew it!”, he exclaims, “The moment you walked through the door, I
said to myself, ‘There goes a real Arab, if ever there was one!’”.
At World Congress, I meet a lady whom I have corresponded
with by email. She says “You don’t look anything like you are supposed to look
like”.
Next day I am standing in the entrance lobby, when an
old lady spontaneously exclaims “Good heavens, you look just like the Prince of
Wales!” As the old lady has reached the
grand old age of 94, I am tempted to ask “Which Prince of Wales?”
Are these similar incidents connected to Spokane in
some way, I wonder? If so, now I am back in Ireland it’s surely all over. At
the weekend I attend the wedding of a friend. A lady whom I don’t know says
“You’re English, aren’t you?” At last, someone has got my identity right. “Yes”,
I reply, “I was born in Kent”. “Oh no”, she says, “I didn’t mean that. I
thought you were our Irish doctor, Dr. English. You look just like him”.
(Sahlan Diver)
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