Richard Salva

Back in the 1970’s, when I was very new at Ananda, I lived in a small monastery with other monks near Swami’s home. During the day, I worked in the community dairy, milking cows and running the kitchen, and in the evenings, I hiked over the hill to my own small home. Sometimes, when Swami was out of town, I took advantage of his generosity and borrowed books and tapes from his personal library. Of these, there were many on the subject of saints and mystics. But there were also many writings by Swami’s favorite humorist, P.G. Wodehouse.

It took me awhile to "get into" Wodehouse, but I eventually found his writings uproariously funny. His wordplay was exquisite, and his situations absurd. I usually laughed quite hard while reading his work. The funniest story of them all was "The Smile That Wins," a short story about a morose detective who received a "smile prescription" from his offbeat doctor. The sleuth’s painful grimaces made people believe that he could glimpse their guilty secrets, with hilarious results.

I never laughed so hard in my life as when I first read it. The morning after, some brother monks who’d overheard me asked what had occasioned my loud guffaws. I decided that this was Wodehouse at his best.

Not long after, I was walking near the dining room at the Seclusion Retreat when I noticed Swami greeting people. I stood nearby shyly, not saying a word, and was surprised therefore, when Swami spun around to say hello to me. After I returned his greeting, Swami turned back to the man he had been talking with, and asked him which story he (Swami) should choose for his yearly P.G. Wodehouse Christmas reading to the community. The man remarked that he thought ‘Honeysuckle Cottage’ was very funny.

"Oh no, Swami!" I immediately thought, with great emotion. "You should read ‘The Smile That Wins.’ That is his funniest story ever!" But I was too timid to say it out loud.

Swami paused for a moment, then answered, "No, I’ve done ‘Honeysuckle Cottage’ quite recently. It’s a good story, but this year I’m going to read ‘The Smile That Wins.’ In my opinion, this is Wodehouse’s best."

He then turned to me, and gave me the sweetest, kindest smile you ever saw.

I was quite happy at the turn of events, and could not wait for Christmas Day to arrive. At the same time, I felt saddened by the knowledge that I would probably miss a good deal of it.

Every Christmas, the dairymen gathered together to share the evening chores. After milking like the dickens and racing up the hill to our old truck to the Seclusion Retreat, we typically arrived a third of the way through Swami’s reading.

On this Christmas night, I worked with frenetic energy. Yet, in the end, when I looked at my watch, I could not hide my dismay—we were late again, as usual.

What was my surprise, when upon entering the temple, I found Swami leading the community in chanting Yogananda’s "Joy, joy, joy, joy! Ever new joy!" At first, I couldn’t understand it. He had never done the evening in this way before.

Swami had noted our entrance. A short minute after we arrived, he put the harmonium aside, pulled out his Wodehouse book, and began reading.

Although I always enjoy Swami’s renditions of Wodehouse, so sensitively done, on this night I had a hard time following the story. I felt overwhelmed with love and blessings. Swami had given me a beautiful Christmas gift. He had responded to the unspoken wish of my heart, and he had waited so that I could enjoy every minute of it. As was my wont, I gave him my poor thanks, inwardly.

I thought that Swami’s kind and giving spirit beautifully expressed the Christ Consciousness that permeates this holy season. It reminded me of the story that Swami related in his autobiography, The Path, when Yogananda abruptly halted the car he was riding in, in order to buy some useless items from a merchant who badly needed exactly that much money just then. Yogananda had caught the merchant’s stray thought and reacted with love, just as Swami had done for me.

Years later, I was able to return the favor. When Swami was ill, I brought him laughter by performing in a reader’s theater production of "The Smile That Wins." I played the lead role of the grimacing detective, and Swami kindly wrote me an appreciative note afterwards, in his rather spidery handwriting due to the pain of arthritis. Since that time, it has been my joy to perform Wodehouse, always remembering his gift of kindness, and the power that even small acts of love have, to touch us.