How Mr. H Became A Mast

I remember watching Hollis Williams walking up the grade in the alley between 18th. and 19th. Street off Kindcaid, in Eugene. He lived in the building next to me and worked at Agra-Pac for 18 years. Then he disappeared. His place of work was shut down. H took me to the company picnic that was still held ten years after closing. H was always center stage. This was his family. I did not get any contact names. A mistake. They would all have come.

There was a light around him. H said hello to me with a beautiful smile. After H was dead, I discovered he had no family. I adopted him. But, I believe Meher Baba found Mr. Williams, and made him one with the eternal truth. It was easy, because H did not have the attachments to illusion most of us have, when we cling to our natal family. At the memorial, Hollis’s true family gathered. I lay out two scrolls near the lit candles and bid them to say Hello and Goodbye.


About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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