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She sat engaged in her own prayers, a communion with Krishna, with eyes set on His form as flowers were showered and the lamp being waved up and down. The hall in the temple was packed and singers were lost in adoring the Lord in their songs. It was getting late and it was time for her to hurry home. She pulled herself up much against the urge to stay there and see the all pervading Lord manifest in a little form in the cradle at midnight. A thought that she could always return the next day to get a glance of Him amidst the joyous celebrations marking His birth consoled her. She retired for the day in her bed, but her ears were attentive to the faintly heard bhajans till her eyelids drooped down heavy with sleep.
As circumstance could have it she was heart broken on not being able to make it to the temple the next day. Her wish to visit the Lord in all His splendour dashed to the ground. She was sad, disappointed and even angry.
With anguish gripping her heart, she told Him, “I wanted to see you, but it seems you are indifferent! It is not my fault but yours. Now find a way to come to me. I need to see you at any cost!"
Hours elapsed and the anticipation of the Lord's arrival began to wither away with the dying hope. She came to terms with the fact and the rebellious mind retreated gradually.
In the evening when her thoughts were far away from Krishna while engaged in a chat with a relative, the anxious maid came rushing to her, “The Lord has come, the Lord has come!"
The Lord has come???? With hopes rushing back again yet coupled with disbelief, she asked, “The Lord has come? Where?"
“Oh He is there in front of our gate!"
In utter shock she managed to mutter, “Please make it clear, what do you mean?"
The maid clarified that the rath with little Krishna which was being pulled by devotees had reached the corner of the road, near her home.
With tears of gratitude welling up, she rushed downstairs to the road to meet her Lord. There was her Krishna in the rath amidst chanting of bhajans, swarming devotees, puja and worship!
All that she could utter in a choked voice was “Krishna.............Krishna.............Krishna................"
Beautiful are the ways in which Grace behold us. The Grace that is inexplicable and immeasurable is always available but awaiting our attention.