About five years ago, in their home in New York City, the little lad was home, he’s very [...]. The father and mother were present but he wasn’t addressing them, he was talking to me. He said, “You know, Neville, I feel that if I could turn around I could see who I really am. I know I am wearing a mask, but I can’t turn around. I didn’t dream this, no one told me, I didn’t read it, but I know if I could turn around, I would really see the being that I really am. And I can’t wait to die to turn around and see who I am.” The mother stopped him right away. She was a very, very poor girl who married great wealth, and anything of death frightened her. She’d lose her diamonds, her home, and all these things, that scares her to death. No death. And so is the husband. He has money, he has possessions and he can’t think of the thing called death. He’s seventy-five…the lad was then ten…so he wasn’t yet…he was only seventy-one. Now the lad is growing up…undoubtedly diverted…but that is what he said to me.876 ¶6