Now another letter came this week: “A year ago last October, I found myself in a crowd at the base of an enormous mountain. There was no pathway up the mountain, yet we all desired to climb it. I knew that if I climbed that mountain I would find the Father. I began to dig a little pathway, started making steps to climb on a very difficult road, not a straight road. It was winding peculiarly up the mountain. When I got to the top I thought I should find the Father. Surely the Father should be here waiting for me, but there was no one. I was on the very top of what I had built. I thought I could rest here awhile or wait awhile, for I knew the Father would come. Suddenly the entire mountain disappeared, and all the people down below who could not find the pathway disappeared. Only my crooked pathway winding up to the top remained and myself. I realized I had been building blocks, one square and one a triangle, a square and a triangle up to the top, and the top on which I rested was a triangle. Then the voice said to me, ‘Be.’ All I heard was just ‘Be.’ And I woke crying and couldn’t restrain the tears, yet there was no emotion concerning the climb, just tears. “Many months later, in March of 1966, I heard the same voice. I went to bed saying, “I and the Father are one.” I fell asleep and the voice said, “I am the Father.” Again I awoke crying, tears poured out like a flood, and again no emotion to prompt the tears. Then, months later, I heard the voice, last September, say: ‘Do you not know that you are a priestess after the order of Melchizadek? Act like it!’ Then I woke and I don’t understand it.”910 ¶21