That night we sat outside with the Flame flickering beside us, tiny and still inside its lantern, yet looking so vulnerable. It reminded us how fragile our dreams can be. Anyone could blow it out- if you let them. Yet we knew that this light was fired by a dream stronger than the wind. We thought of Mansukh’s parents and their connection with Gandhi, and through him with Tagore, Thoreau and Tolstoy. Generations of peacemakers had worked to create the flame of peace that his parents had carefully nurtured and tended within this very house.

Now the Flame was ready to be carried to Britain. The South African Air Force had agreed to transport it. Two weeks later, the African Flame was welcomed at a large Royal Air Force base near Oxford. The Flame was taken straight into the city and there, in one of the UK’s great historic seats of learning, the Lord Mayor of Oxford formally welcomed it into the UK. The African Flame had arrived in Britain.

From: “The Flame that Transforms”