The following year, Baba wrote: "Phyllis has served both God and Man by bringing Lyn to meet his Beloved."

Summing up his meeting with "the one object representing Reality in the gross world," Lyn Ott wrote:

To sit in the presence of perfection is revelation. This was the day, this day of darshan, when Lord Krishna in ages past is said to have triumphed as Avatar over the forces of destruction in the world.

But Baba was not, at that moment, Lord Krishna, nor the Avatar: he was simply my own intimate personal Master of Love and Compassion and Truth.

There was Baba in the man-guru; and God made me love him in his humble and unadorned perfection.

I had been totally unprepared for the love that my Master poured upon me. He came down to me and that was his love, patting my back, caressing my face and smiling that unfathomable smile of knowledge and bliss. And here I was at last at the Om Point. For wherever Baba sits, that is the center of the universe. The very fact that Meher Baba sat tucked away in the heart of India at the foot of that little fairy-tale mountain behind Meherazad makes India the center of the universe. There the projection room is set up from which emanates the whole shimmering phantasmagoria and dream of creation. There alone is the apex of the myth, past, present and future, all in one. So when one is there, there is no place to go, and there is nothing to do. For one knows at that moment that everything is being done for him by the master hand of universal destiny.

Meher Baba is exactly what he says he is. My conviction is based on having had physical contact with him. His love and authority were made perfectly evident to me.

I went to India for a specific reason. I knew that I had come to receive the gift of love. It was very frightening for me, the prospect of receiving a gift of love from God.

I feared that I would be overpowered and destroyed by the gift, and I did not want that. But I was not overpowered nor destroyed by meeting face-to-face the Divine Beloved.

Before I came to know of Meher Baba, painting was my religion; I knew no other. On that blessed day when Baba sent that long gaze into my eyes, he made himself the substance of my religion ...

The face that I saw when I saw Baba is actually the face of God manifested in form.