The Devotee’s Background
In a small village of Bengal lived a simple and pious widow affectionately called Durgī Mā. She was poor in worldly wealth but rich in faith. Her entire life was centered on her household deity, Śrī Gopāla—a small image of baby Kṛṣṇa that she had inherited from her ancestors.
She treated Gopāla not as a statue, but as her own child. Each day she would bathe Him, feed Him, sing lullabies, and even scold Him when she thought He was mischievous. Villagers would often smile and say, “Durgī Mā has truly gone mad in love for her Gopāla.”
But she paid them no heed. For her, Gopāla was as alive as any child.
The Life of Devotional Service
Though she had little income, Durgī Mā never missed her daily offerings. She would beg or work in the fields just enough to buy some milk, rice, and butter for her beloved Lord. “Gopāla must never go hungry,” she would say.
At night, she would sit before the small altar, singing softly until sleep overcame her. Her hut was bare, her clothes simple, but her heart overflowed with the sweetness of divine motherhood.
One year, famine struck the region. Crops failed, food became scarce, and hunger spread everywhere. Durgī Mā could find nothing to eat, yet she continued to prepare imaginary meals for Gopāla. Placing an empty plate before Him, she wept, “O my darling boy, forgive Your mother! Today she has nothing to give You.”
Her tears flowed so freely that they fell onto the plate, filling it like a pool of love.
The Lord’s Reciprocation
That night, Durgī Mā heard a gentle knock at her door. When she opened it, she found a handsome cowherd boy standing there, smiling and holding a pot of milk and a basket of food.
“Mother,” said the boy, “some men on the road gave these to me, but I have eaten enough. Please take them for yourself.”
Durgī Mā looked at Him in wonder. His dark complexion, His curly hair, the peacock feather in His crown—all seemed strangely familiar. Before she could speak, He placed the food on her altar, looked at her with deep affection, and vanished into the air.
Overwhelmed, she fell to the ground crying, “O Gopāla! You came Yourself to feed Your mother!”
From that night onward, there was always food in her house. No one knew from where it came. The famine continued to rage outside, but inside her little hut, her Gopāla never went hungry again.
The Continuing Miracle
When the famine finally ended, the villagers visited her hut and were astonished to see that Durgī Mā looked healthier than before. They asked, “Mother, how did you survive? You had nothing.”
She smiled gently and said, “What more does a mother need when her child takes care of her? My Gopāla fed me with His own hands.”
Many laughed, thinking her words symbolic, but a few devout souls understood that the Lord had indeed revealed His love in a tangible way. Even after her passing, devotees felt a divine presence around her home, and it became a small shrine where people came to pray for faith like hers.
Reflection
Durgī Mā’s story proves that Kṛṣṇa is both the nourisher and the nourished. When love reaches the state of total surrender, the Lord Himself takes responsibility for His devotee’s well-being.
Bhakti transforms helplessness into intimacy. To Durgī Mā, the famine was not a calamity—it was the Lord’s way of revealing His care. Her tears became offerings, and her poverty became her strength.
As Kṛṣṇa declares in Bhagavad-gītā 9.22:
“To those who are constantly devoted and who worship Me with love, I give what they lack and preserve what they have.”
Source
Source: “Experiences in Bhakti: The Science Celestial,” by O. B. L. Kapoor — Chapter Six: Verification of the Law of Reciprocation (place: Bengal).
