Some Krishna Cheer : Members of the Hindu sect are beginning to exhibit optimism toward legal problems it faces.

On a recent weekday morning, with the sun spilling in through an open door, members of the Hare Krishna temple talked of the optimism that has reclaimed their worship center.

It’s been almost a year since an appeals court set aside a judgment that could have forced the closure of five Krishna temples, including the pink building rimmed with rose bushes that dominates the corner of Glenneyre and Legion streets here.

While a new trial has been ordered and the temple’s future is still uncertain, members say they feel “a great sense of relief” that they will not be uprooted.

“There is definitely a joyful feeling, in fact an extremely joyful feeling,” said Rohit Masher, a Lake Forest resident who joined the temple in 1981. “It is the nucleus of our Hindu society around here.”

The lawsuit, which was waged against the sect by a former devotee and her mother who claimed that the daughter was brainwashed by the Krishnas, must still be untangled in court.

But temple members, encouraged by recent court decisions, say they have begun to look ahead.

“We’re able to now start making plans for our future growth and building a larger community,” said Kosarupa, wife of the temple’s president.

The path has never been smooth for the sari-draped, pony-tailed devotees, who do not blend easily into the background.

Even in a city that boasts of its diversity, the skipping, chanting members--who in 12 years converted a Baptist Church into a thriving Krishna center and vegetarian restaurant--have taken some getting used to.

But using an industrious outreach approach that includes delivering food to shut-ins, serving leftovers to the hungry and helping at a local homeless shelter, they have carved their niche in the community.

About 700 families are now members of the temple, Kosarupa said, almost triple the number of three years ago. On their last major holy day in September, 700 people took part in the temple festivities, she said. “Save the Turkey Day,” a meatless Thanksgiving celebration, drew 200 people.

On any average day, the temple bustles with activity. Before daybreak, bare-footed devotees chant before ornately clad deities. Much of the day’s activity revolves around Gauranga’s, the vegetarian restaurant housed within the temple.

On this typical morning, while brown rice, mixed vegetables and yellow split-pea soup were being prepared in another room, a devotee plumped up the salad bar with garbanzo beans, raisins, sunflower seeds and bean sprouts.

In the worship hall, shortly before lunch was served, an elderly female priest prepared edible offerings for the smiling deities.

As the daily ritual proceeded, Kosarupa spoke of the future. Eventually, she said, the temple may relocate so the Krishnas can build a larger worship center, grow their own food, start a school and open a day-care center.

They hope to stay “in or as close to Laguna as possible,” she said. “We definitely have a lot of acceptance here.”

But Krishna attorney David Liberman cautioned that the legal labyrinth, which he said at one point “threatened to extinguish our entire religion” must still be resolved. While he now considers it unlikely, Liberman said the temple could still be lost to the lawsuit.

“The reality of the situation is there is a substantial risk,” he said. “It’s far from over.”

The uncertainty that has clouded the temple’s future can be traced to 1974 when then-14-year-old Robin George attended a meeting at the Laguna Beach temple and then set up a prayer altar in her Cypress bedroom.

Three years later, Robin George and her widowed mother, Marcia George, sued the Krishnas, alleging that the sect had smuggled the teen-ager to San Diego, New Orleans and Canada, hiding her from her family. Robin George’s father, Jim George, died of a heart attack shortly after his daughter returned home for good in 1975.

In 1983, an Orange County Superior Court jury awarded the Georges $32.5 million in damages, an amount later slashed by a trial judge to $9.7 million. The award included $75,000 for the wrongful death of Jim George, whose death experts attributed to stress.

In 1989, a San Diego appeals court dismissed the claim that the Krishnas intentionally brainwashed Robin George and again reduced the award, eliminating all but $2.9 million for emotional distress suffered by the mother, Marcia George, and the $75,000 in the wrongful death claim.

The California Supreme Court ordered the sale of the temples to fulfill the judgment, which, including interest, amounted then to $5 million. In 1990, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor temporarily blocked that order.

Last year, the U.S. Supreme Court ordered the case back to the state appeals court. In January, the San Diego appeals court set aside the original judgment and ordered a retrial of the punitive damages award, leaving intact compensatory damages for Robin George and her mother that, including interest, total about $900,000.

The new jury trial is scheduled to begin in Orange County Superior Court next April 1.

After years of court battles, the Georges say they remain determined to see the issue through to its end. “They may drag us through court for another eight years, but I’m sure we will win. We are not afraid of another court trial,” Marcia George said.

Even though attitudes about the Krishnas may have changed in Laguna Beach, Liberman said he’s not sure they have elsewhere in the conservative county where the Krishnas lost Round 1 nine years ago.

“Although Laguna Beach is in Orange County, Orange County is not in Laguna Beach,” he said. “So anything could happen.”