The sun was setting in Braja, and Krishna, with companions was homeward
leading the cows to be milked.
The hills were gold-tipped. The chirp of the birds in sleepy echoes fell
on the ear, when far in the distance the hoofs of stamping steeds
pounding the earth caused the boys to turn. Coming in royal splendor
towards them they beheld a chariot with blazing banners of the colors of
the royal house of Mathura.
The boys stood in amazement as nearer the chariot came; but Krishna
smiled with His eye full of wisdom, and aslant He looked toward the boys
and the cows and then at Akrura, the ambassador, who came in the
chariot.
At that glance, Akrura quickly descended and fell at the feet of Krishna
and saluted Him in reverence and worship, for the dart of love that came
from Krishna revealed to the heart of Akrura that Krishna was more than
human and not less than divine.
With that glance his soul was drawn to the soul of Him who stood there
to receive him and his message. And he knew that the Author of Life he
beheld and that blessed he was beyond all measure to be chosen to look
on that wonderful face.
A moment he lay in the dust, at the feet of the youth,—Akrura, the
proud, the inmate of palaces, the councilor and companion of the king
and emperor.
Then, with kindly grace, Krishna raised him and embraced him and led him
forth to the house of Nanda, and with His own hands brought rich drinks
and choice viands, with the countenance that had on it the glow of the
sun, and the beauty that surpassed all the beauty ever seen.
And having partaken of the meal with His father and brother and guest,
Krishna addressed him thus: "O friend, long I knew of this coming of
thine and marvelled at its delay. Yet tell them, my kinsman, the errand
of the on which thou wert sent!"
Then Akrura related to Nanda and the fear-stricken Yasodā the king's
message, his plans and his evil design.
A smile of wisdom flitted over the face of Krishna, as He nestled close
to the side of His mother and bade her forget her anxiety for Him, as
none there was in all the world that could harm Him. He vowed that even
the most dreaded Kangsa was powerless to bring about the evil he
planned.
But the mother, Yasodā, she who had reared and nourished the Child at
her heart, she who had caressed His lovely baby softness and with
fondness saw his first toddling steps, she could not be comforted, nor
would her heart cease its beating of pain and terror.
And Akrura related how Kangsa in wrath had thrown Devaki and Vāsudeva
into prison, on hearing that Krishna was the eighth son of their union.
And Yasodā wept as the thought of the mother who had lost all her sons
at the cost of Krishna, and yet had not the blessing of suckling Him.
Yasodā, most blessed of all women art thou, who nursed the Lord of Love
as thy son! And fitted wert thou by Him to bestow on His baby life thy
caresses and receive the love that flowed from Him!
Worthy wert thou to croon Him to sleep, to bathe the sweet beauty of Him
who, though He had all there was, yet chose to be soothed and guided and
directed by thee in His babyhood!
And when to boyhood's estate He grew and startled all the world by the
wonder of His doing, to thee He came as a little child, to be loved and
petted and soothed of His weeping and fretting!
And now when called king of the land, and called king by the hearts of
the whole known world that panted to look upon His wonderful beauty and
see the might of His strength, even now close to thy heart He nestles,
and twines His arms about thy neck, and gazes with love-light into thine
eyes to comfort thee, and feels a shadow mantle His heart as He banishes
the pain from thy brow!
For well He knows that no more to thee the forest child He will be; for
the world now claims Him as its own, and in His bigger world an actor He
must be.
Thus heart to heart they sit, the mother and the foster-son. He who was
Lord of all the world, and she who reared him as a child.