“Goddess, grant me the death of a fortunate woman while my honor is still intact.” Shyama’s mother prayed thus to Tulsi on the day of Tulsi Vivah. Why did she ask for this on a festival day? But the circumstances were such.

How much does God test a person? They say that when misfortune comes, it never comes alone. The storehouse of happiness in Shyama’s home was emptied, and the storehouse of troubles began to fill, one after another. Yet, the strength of mind in this household did not diminish by even a hair’s breadth. On the contrary, as the days of fever and hardship increased, their resolve grew stronger. Still, they tried to spend their days with calm and patience.

Difficult days had come upon this family. Each day brought the question—how will we get through today? Yet, the effort to live with dignity continued. If there was oil, there would be no salt; if there was salt, there would be no chili. There would be no firewood for cooking. The children would gather dry leaves and twigs to cook the meal. If there was no fire at home, they would have to go to a neighbor’s house to get a burning ember. What else could she and the others do but strive to live each day with honor? Tatu had left, saying he would return soon, but he did not come back.

Deserted. The house was locked up, and people had left for Pune or Mumbai for the sake of their children. There was no one left in the ancestral home. Shyam’s mother could not step outside the house. For one, she had to maintain her dignity, and secondly, her body no longer had the strength for such things. Day by day, she grew weaker. Shyam had left in anger. He must have been upset with her. Even so, Shyam’s mother would remember him and be filled with sorrow.

At such a time, a pensioner’s family came to live in the village. In truth, they were not originally from this village. They had no relatives or close acquaintances here. But the water of the village, the air, suited them. The people of the village were good. And above all, they had great devotion and faith in the Ganpati of this village. They took a small room near Shyam’s house and built a little bungalow beside it. The husband and wife lived there together. They were both good-hearted people.

Shyam’s mother gradually became acquainted with them. The wife, Radha-bai, was the pensioner’s wife. She was by nature loving and affectionate. The two women would share news and stories with each other. Radha-bai came to know about the poverty in Shyam’s mother’s home.

One day, Shyam’s mother said to her, “Radha-bai, if you have any work that needs to be done, please tell me. If you need grain to be ground, I will do it for you. That way, I will earn a little help for myself.” Radha-bai gladly agreed.