In a quiet village, there lived a Sadhu who was loved and respected by all. The villagers often sought his guidance and wisdom to help solve their problems and find peace in their lives.
One day, a distraught man came to see him. "Maharaj," he said, his voice choked with emotion, "my wife has passed away, and I have four young children. How will I raise them without their mother? I feel so lost," he lamented, tears streaming down his face.
As the Sadhu comforted the grieving father, another man approached, his face etched with sorrow.
"Maharaj," he began, "my wife died just a few days ago, leaving me with six children. The oldest is twelve, and the youngest is only three months old."
"What should I do? How can I care for them alone?" he cried, his voice filled with desperation.
Just then, a third man, older and burdened by worry, came forward. "Maharaj, I am with my second wife. I have a son from my first marriage, and he is married now."
"My current wife and my daughter-in-law do not get along. They argue incessantly every day."
"I am getting older, and I fear for my wife's future once I am gone," he confessed, his eyes glistening with tears.
The Sadhu listened intently to each man's plight, his heart heavy with their collective pain. Yet, he knew that a single thread of wisdom could bind their troubled hearts together.
Smiling gently, the Sadhu said, "There is one solution common to all your worries: namasmaran."
The men looked at him, hope flickering in their eyes, as they began to understand the profound truth in his words.
Learning: Such is the nature of worry! We often feel overwhelmed because we do not see the greater suffering of others. Once we recognize that others face even more challenging trials, our own burdens may seem lighter.
