Krishna Teaches Through the Butter Ball

Little Krishna, barely five years old, was caught stealing butter again. Yashoda, his foster mother, stood with her hands on her hips.

Yashoda: "Kanha! How many times have I told you not to steal butter! Every day complaints come from neighbors. 'Your son broke my pot! Your son ate all our butter!' What am I to do with you?"

Krishna: "I didn't steal it, Maiya."

Yashoda: "Then what is that on your face?"

Krishna: "The butter came to me. It wanted to be eaten."

Yashoda: "Butter doesn't walk. Butter doesn't talk. Butter doesn't want things."

Krishna: "How do you know?"

Yashoda: "Because I make butter every day. I churn and churn and—"

Krishna: "And what were you before you made butter?"

Yashoda: "What? I was... I was churning milk."

Krishna: "And what was the milk before it was milk?"

Yashoda: "It was in the cow."

Krishna: "And what was the cow before it was a cow?"

Yashoda: "A calf. Why are you asking these questions?"

Krishna: "And what was the calf before it was a calf?"

Yashoda: "It was... inside its mother."

Krishna: "And where does it all come from? The cow, the milk, the butter? Where does EVERYTHING come from?"

Yashoda: "From... from Brahman. From the Divine source. That's what the priests say."

Krishna: "And who is the Divine source, Maiya?"

Yashoda froze. She looked at her butter-smeared son, his dark eyes twinkling, and for a moment — just a moment — she saw infinity looking back at her.

Krishna: ""The butter is not stolen, Maiya. How can I steal what is already mine? Everything comes from me and returns to me. The cows know this — that's why they let me take the butter. The pots know this — that's why they don't run away. Only humans forget and start drawing lines: 'This is mine, that is yours.'"

But I will tell you a secret. Even these lines, these ideas of 'mine' and 'yours' — I created them too. It's all a game. And in this game, the butter has to be stolen, and you have to scold me, and I have to look innocent, and later you have to forgive me and hug me. This is the play. Are you enjoying your part?"

Yashoda stood speechless. Then she did what she always did — she pulled him into her arms and held him tight.

Yashoda: "I don't understand anything you say, Kanha. But I love you."

Krishna: "That's the whole point, Maiya. You don't need to understand. You just need to love. Understanding is for scholars. Love is for mothers. And of the two, love is closer to truth."