URGENT LETTER TO LORD NARAYANA
In an obscure village lived a mother and her son. The boy had lost his father when he was just two years old. The mother exerted herself in many ways to earn enough money for bringing up her only son and educating him. The boy too was very smart, obedient and had a great love and regard for his mother. The boy grew up and reached seventh class. He was studying hard for the examination. One day he told his mother, "Ma, I have to pay fees Rs. 20 for the examination within four days. Please somehow get for me the amount."
The mother was panicky, she had no money with her, and it was the last week of the month. She went to the headmaster and explained her inability to pay the fees in time and requested to help her in some way or other. The headmaster replied that nothing was in his hands. The mother returned home, sat under a tree near her hut and was weeping. The boy returned from the school, found his mother weeping. He sat near her and asked: "Why are you weeping mother?" "My son, I cannot find money. You cannot go to school from tomorrow. You better come and work with me. There is no other way." The boy said: "Why don't you ask somebody a loan of Rs. 20. After the examination, I shall work and will be able to pay back the amount." "My dear son," replied the mother, "who will give me the money? Only God if He will." The boy eagerly enquired, "Who is God, Ma? Where is He? What is His address? I shall go and get money from Him." The mother helplessly said: "Yes, there is the Lord of Vaikunta, Narayana, who is the source of all wealth."
Without a moment's hesitation, the boy ran to the post office. He had a few small coins with him. He purchased a card and wrote on it his mother's unfortunate condition, his own need and requested God to send Rs. 20 immediately by return post. He ran to the post box tied to a tree, but he was too short to reach the slit to put in the letterbox. The postmaster who had been observing the boy all the while, came out took the card from him and asked: "To whom are you writing the letter?" The Boy said: "Oh Sir! This is a very urgent letter to Lord Narayana in Vaikunta. I have to pay my examination fees within three days. I am writing to him requesting him to send Rs. 20 immediately." The postmaster stared at the address on the post card. He could not find words, tears gathered in his eyes at the innocence of that boy. "My dear boy, who gave you this address?" asked the postmaster. The boy narrated the dialogue between himself and his mother. "Sir, my mother says that God is very kind and He will certainly help the poor like us if only we pray to Him earnestly." The postmaster was very much moved. He patted the boy and said: "My dear boy, I shall see to the express delivery of this post card. You better come day after tomorrow."
The boy ran home in a joyful mode. He told his mother that he would get the money in a day.
The boy went to the postmaster the day after. The postmaster said: "My dear boy, here is the cover, inside it you will find Rs. 20. Now go and pay the fees." The boy ran home with the cover and placed it in his mother's hands. The mother asked him sternly how he had got the money. The boy narrated the entire discussion with the postmaster. She would not believe him. She hurried to the postmaster and asked him whether what her son had told her was true and how it could have happened. The postmaster told her: "Mother, believe me. I have always been a hardhearted man. When I saw your son with that letter, I could not believe my own eyes. A letter written to God with such faith. It moved me. It must be God who had induced me to come to the rescue of your son. Please take the money. It must be God's will that I should give this money. Otherwise I would not have chanced to see your boy and your son's faith in God would have been shattered. I consider this an opportunity to help a good boy."
If we pray to God sincerely, God does help us. He would induce someone to act as His agent. Implicit faith in God alone would rescue everyone from all troubles and travails.