"What sort of drama was this?" Age wondered. "He who was destined to be the Lord of the universe had to spend his childhood among the destitute, begging on the streets. What an unfathomable design by God!"
Age heard the young boy cry, "Mother, walk slowly. I cannot go faster ... I cannot go on." And the mother lifted the child in her arms with tears in her eyes. "Mother, I am hungry ... When will someone kind give us food?"
His mother whispered, "Son, have patience. God is merciful. There is a village not far away where we will find bread."
Sensing his mother's plight, the boy said, "Mother, I do not feel hungry any more. I feel like walking now." He slipped from her grasp and, though tired and weak, slowly walked beside her.
In this manner, for five years mother and son wandered from door to door, from village to village. With his sweet conversation, the boy kept his mother cheerfully distracted. Never again did he ask his mother for food or comfort. Blisters tormented the soles of his feet until they toughened like leather, but they walked on without knowing where they were headed, begging simply to survive.
Mercy is always hidden in the apparent terribleness of God. Fate is a paradoxical mystery: the cruelty of God is in some way His mercy! No one can escape His compassion whatever the circumstances. God's nature is mercy; He is mercy itself. In His eyes, no one is helpless and without hope. But only those who become God can fathom this mystery.
Although mother and son were suffering in the eyes of the world, one cannot imagine what the five-year-old boy was about to receive. After knocking on door after door in the village of Shelwadi and being turned away empty-handed, the mother and son reached the door of a blind man. This person was, in actuality, a renowned saint named Gopal Rao Deshmukh. Gopal Rao embraced the little boy ardently, as if two old friends were being reunited after years of separation. Indeed, the saint had been waiting for this woman and child and, with great respect and love, prepared a room in his own house for them to stay with him.
The saint's father was Keshav Pant of Jamb. Although a poor man, Keshav was very devout. There was nothing in his house — no furniture or decorations — except a large life-size statue of Vyankatesh — Lord Vishnu — which he would worship night and day.