It was a hot day in Gokula, not too long after the Damodhara Leela. Little Krishna, the joy of the Gopis, sang gleefully and danced beautifully as he played with the other children. He slapped his arms and thighs like a wrestler much to the amusement of his kinsmen. Everyone watched lovingly as he ambled about like a little elephant, causing mischief and bringing joy to all.
It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon, and everyone was resting, seeking shade from the sun beating overhead. Krishna was playing in the courtyard when he heard a faint voice.
“Mangos! Apples! Pears! Buy some juicy fruit! Fruit! Fruit! Get juicy, delicious fruit!” A fruit seller had wandered to Gokula, selling her wares. Krishna, tempted by the promise of refreshing, sweet fruit, rushed to the entrance.
“I’ll buy some fruit!” The fruit seller looked at the sweet little boy. He was dark skinned, a beautiful stormy color that shone just as brilliantly as his golden ornaments and silk clothes. His eyes, wide and bright, looked up at her in anticipation. “I’ll have one of each fruit!”
His sweet voice, happy and strong, made her smile and filled her with love. “Sweet boy, you can have fruit, but you must give me something in return.”
Krishna pursed his delicate brow and thought for a minute. He raced back into the courtyard, gathered as many grains as his pink palms could hold and with tight fists, he ran back to the fruit seller. “Here,” he gasped, thrusting his hands at her. She took in his blushed cheeks and glowing face before looking at his tiny hands. Grains had slipped through his pudgy little fingers until there were only a few in each hand. He looked at her, waiting. “Will they be enough?” he asked in his innocent voice.
Her heart swelling with happiness, the fruit seller agreed, agreeing to his trade and giving him the fruits she wanted. Krishna, content with the fruits she lovingly gave him, tottered back into the courtyard, his arms laden with goods.
The fruit seller put her basket, now empty but for the few grains, back on her head and went on her way. The sun soon sunk into the sky and colored it beautiful shades of purple and orange as she walked. The basket felt heavier than it should’ve been. She kept walking until the basket felt so heavy, her neck hurt! Stopping under a large banyan tree to catch her breath, the fruit seller put the basket down, wondering why her burden had increased so. She removed the covering and the sight! There were emeralds and rubies, diamonds and sapphires a plenty in her old wicker basket. Sitting in joy and crying of happiness, the fruit seller understood; the beautiful boy, little Krishna was divine. He must have been Lord Vishnu himself!
The fruit seller story teaches us a very simple, yet important lesson. Trust in Krishna, love Him, and offer all you have to Him wholeheartedly and He shall reward you, give back to you so much more!
Vathsalya Senapathi 16 yrs, Dallas TX