The Great Chain on Urantia (Chapter 3, page 1 of 4)

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Chapter 3

Near Yatung, December 1940 "Brother Andre, Brother Andre, come quick! Come see!"

"Calm yourself, Brother Guillaume, calm yourself, and tell me what is the matter."

"Someone left a baby at the gate. A little newborn baby! And it's all fuzzy and hairy. And it's crying! Come! Quick! It's crying!"

"May the Lord have mercy on us, what's happening now. Well, let's go and see this marvel. A crying, fuzzy baby. Was anyone there? Was there no one with the baby?"

"No one at all, Brother Andre. There was nobody in sight. They never even knocked or anything. The wood hauling party was just going out for the day, and when they opened the gate, there it was. It wasn't crying then. It started crying after they picked it up. And it hasn't stopped."

"Alright, alright. Go to the kitchen and tell Brother Rudolph to prepare a drink of goat milk with dripping of soaked oatmeal and a little honey. Do you understand?"

"Oatmeal? And honey? Brother Andre, are these things to give to a baby? Should we not find a nurse for it?"

"Brother Guillaume, do you think the baby should continue to cry? Now this is not the way to the kitchen. Go speak to Brother Rudolph. Go directly to Brother Rudolph and deliver your message."

The good monk scurries away.

Brother Andre is an older man, of medium height, with thin gray hair absentmindedly radiating from his head. He has a talent for being forceful and kind at the same time. Accustomed to being heard and heeded, he bears his burdens of responsibility with quiet confidence.

Seventeen years ago, when he first approached his bishop in New Jersey about this ambition to create a lay Christian monastery in remote Bhutan, he encountered a stone wall of resistance. But he quietly persisted, meeting each objection with just the right sort of answer, having many things already in place, so that eventually he prevailed. And aside from a monthly letter to the bishop, consisting mostly of chatty news, he has been running this outpost of Christianity without let or hindrance from anyone, for almost eighteen years now.

Two members of the wood party are at the gate. One of them is wandering back and forth, talking to and shaking a blanket bundle. He sounds a little desperate.

"The Lord be with you, good Brother. And what have you got there. Is it as Brother Guillaume said? A fuzzy baby in your husky arms? What a sight is this! Yes, yes. A restless, oh my, a very hairy baby. Well, give it to me, and be on your way. You can catch up with the others if you hurry."

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