As devout as she was, I do not recall her ever judging a human being or even taking herself too seriously. We always attended the Baha’i community’s 19-day Feast. It was inevitable that during the opening devotional portion of Feast, as everyone’s eyes were closed and their foreheads furrowed in a serious expression as someone recited a prayer, there would be a suspicious sound—someone’s stomach rumbling, a bare leg moving awkwardly on a leather chair, anything. I would hear the sound and my eyes would fly open and search the room for Maman Bozorg. And there she would be, eyes still closed, lips pressed firmly together, but the entire trunk of her body bouncing up and down in silent laughter.
I've plunged back into Baha'i blog reading. I love the (sometimes highly) personal perspectives. -gw