I had gotten myself into a bad situation. I would have talked to Swamiji right away, but he was in seclusion, and I didn’t want to bother him. Someone told him anyway, and Swamiji sent a note asking me to come and see him.
He was in silence, so we communicated at his typewriter. I spoke, and Swamiji typed out his answers. It took some discussion, but eventually I felt resolved. Swamiji walked me to the door.
“Thank you for your help, Sir,” I said. “But I am sorry you were told. I didn’t want you to break your seclusion because of me.”
We had reached the front door by then, but Swamiji insisted we go back to his office so he could answer me.
He smiled at me sweetly, but wrote, “You insult my friendship.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to do that,” I said.
“I would be very sorry if you didn’t ask for fear of bothering me. It would mean you had lost faith in my friendship. This is what friends are for. And this is what I am for.”