I had often wondered what a Puja would be like in England. I became a Sahaja Yogi not long after Sri Mataji moved away from Britain, and over the last decade I have travelled to see Her in India, Italy and other parts of the world. This was my first Puja with Her in the UK.

So here we were in the beautiful English countryside where the grass is green, the air damp and grey clouds hanging over us, promising to disperse one moment and threatening with rain the next. There was even bunting, those multi-coloured flags seen in English country fetes, decorating the entrance to the camp in Chalfont.

This was definitely England. And then inside the camp there was the other more international England, where thousands of Yogis from all over the world were mixing and enjoying themselves.

And so, one day rolled into another, meeting friends, watching the children play and queuing for the food. I can’t say I have ever enjoyed standing in line as much as I did over those two days at Chalfont. In fact, the whole weekend was so enjoyable that even a trip to a builder’s yard to buy wood for Wolfgang and Paddy and gas for the kitchens turned into an afternoon of light-hearted fun.

By Sunday, much of the heavy work had been done, at least for some of us. Outside the main marquee hundreds of Yogis whiled away the hours with a spontaneous picnic, enjoying each other’s company, joking around and, of course, drinking tea. I saw people I hadn’t seen for years, who had moved away and for one reason or another we hadn’t kept in touch.

Then as the evening approached, we began to go our own way to get ready for Sri Mataji's arrival. It’s so amazing how the atmosphere changes and everyone becomes that little bit quieter and introspective.

As the last of the Yogis trickled in to the tent, the countdown began. There were the bhajans and then the Scottish pipes and then just silence as Sri Mataji and Sir CP arrived in front of us. It wasn’t just a silence of no noise. It was a deep, deep silence where time appeared to stand still. And then I caught a glimpse of Her face, looking so powerful and so majestic.

It was a lovely, sweet Puja that crowned an unforgettable weekend. And just as I was having this thought and as the Prasad was handed out, came the one thing that made it the most English of Pujas. It was a small drop of love coming from above and into our hearts that I hope will spread to the rest of the world.

Gonzalo, London.