As Many Loaves...
A woman and her husband had been trying to conceive a child
for many years, yet without success. They had gone to all manner of
doctors and clinics seeking a solution to their difficulty, but no one
had been able to help them.
In desperation, the woman took it upon herself to visit a very
powerful and spiritually gifted servant of God. If the practitioners of
medicine and science could not resolve her problem, perhaps, a
practitioner of mysticism would be able to do so.
When she found herself before the great spiritual man, she
pleaded her case. She recounted all that she and her husband had
been through in an effort to have at least one child, if not more, and,
yet, here she was, still barren.
The friend of God closed his eyes and his concentration was such
that he appeared to be transported to some other realm. A few
moments later, he opened his eyes, looked at the woman with great
compassion and said: “My daughter, I am very sorry to say that the
Book Of Destiny indicates you will have no children during your life
on Earth. There is nothing which I can do. I cannot change what God
has ordained – no one can.
“Please accept my sincere condolences for I do see how deeply
you long for children, and it breaks my heart to have to be the bearer
of such news. If there were anything which God’s gifts permitted me
to do in this matter, I would do so in an instant, but my spiritual
hands are tied in this matter which you have brought to me.”
The woman cried when she heard the saint’s words. Surely, if
this man of God could do nothing for her and her husband, then,
what hope could one have? The chapter on this phase of her life
seemed to have ended with a painful ache that would cast a shadow
over the remainder of her life as she saw other women enjoying their
children on a daily basis.
In deep sadness and despair she left the saint and wandered out
into the streets. She stumbled along, oblivious to her surroundings.
From somewhere from within her consciousness, she heard: “As
many loaves of bread as you bake for me, I will give you children.”
The sentence kept being repeated.
The woman was startled. Was she dreaming? Who was saying
this? Was it real?
Becoming aware of her surroundings, the woman realized the
words she had been hearing were being spoken by a beggar sitting by
the side of the road. The man didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone
in particular, but like a sort of street vendor, he was announcing to
anyone whom might be interested what he had to offer as well as
what he expected in return.
Like a mantra, he kept saying: “As many loaves of bread as you
bake for me, I will give you children.”
The idea seemed preposterous. Science couldn’t help her.
Medicine couldn’t help her.
A saint not only couldn’t help her but had just told her that her
destiny was devoid of children. So, how could a miserable beggar
help her when he couldn’t even help himself be other than a beggar?
Yet, desperation makes people try strange things and take
implausible chances. Furthermore, even if the whole thing were a
con, she would lose nothing more than a little time and the cost of
making some bread.
She approached the beggar and asked him: “Is your offer
genuine?”
He kept his head lowered and nodded ‘yes’. He, then, repeated
his offer to no one in particular, as if the woman were interrupting
his business activity by, possibly, coming between him and some
other customer seeking to take him up on his pronouncement.
The woman asked the beggar if would be in this place again
tomorrow. The man’s head was still lowered, but he shook it
affirmatively.”
Having little to lose, the woman rushed home and began to
prepare dough for baking. As she did so, she tried to counsel herself
that she should not get her hopes up and that the whole exercise was
rather foolish, and, yet, there was an undercurrent of optimism in
her actions.
She baked eight loves of bread. The next morning she took the
physical manifestation of her efforts to the street on which the beggar
had been the previous day, and she was relieved to find him there,
still spouting the same sentence as he had the day before: “As many
loaves of bread as you bake for me, I will give you children.”
The woman placed the several bags of baked bread in front of
the beggar. The man rose, picking up the bags as he did, and with
head still lowered in humility said: “So, it shall be,” and walked
away.
The woman knew that the beggar was not like a department
store where one could go and complain if dissatisfied with the service.
She suspected she was seeing the last of the man, her bread, and her
hopes. She began trying to resign herself to her fate.
A few months later she became pregnant with her first child.
Over the next nine years, she had eight children in all – precisely the
same number as the loaves of bread she had baked for the beggar.
One day, many years later, the woman was walking down a
street with her children in tow. They ranged in age from 17 down to
8.
A man stopped her in the street, and she recognized the man as
the great saint to whom she had gone so many years ago – the one
who had informed her that the Book of Destiny indicated she would
have no children. She bore the man no ill-will since she was very
thankful to God for having answered her prayers with respect to
children, and, in addition, she really didn’t have any idea of what the
problem had been when he said what he did but believed the man to
have been sincere, compassionate, and kind with her.
The saint looked back and forth between the woman and the
children near her, finally asking: “Whose children are these?”
“They are mine and my husbands,” she said proudly.
“Did you bear these children,” the man inquired, “or, did you
adopt them?”
She was somewhat mystified by the saint’s questions, but
answered: “No, I didn’t adopt them. They are all my natural
children.”
The saint looked at the woman in shock. He shook his head and
said: “This can’t be, and, yet, it is.”
He asked her what had happened. The woman explained about
what had transpired after she had left the saint and how the beggar
had promised to give as many children as someone baked loaves of
bread for him.
The servant of God apologized to the woman for carrying on as
he had. He congratulated her on her good fortune and left.
As soon as he was out of sight of the woman, the saint collapsed
on a set of stairs leading up into an apartment building. He laid his
head in his hands, with his palms resting against his forehead, and
wondered how what he just had witnessed could be the case.
He was a little irritated. He thought he was a friend of God, and,
yet, somehow he seemed to have been excluded from knowing some
secret with respect to this woman.
When he had looked those many years ago, the Book of Destiny
clearly had shown there were no children appearing next to the name
of this woman. And, yet, he just experienced that reality was showing
something very different from what he had seen in the spiritual
realm.
He was feeling dejected and lonely. With head buried in hands,
he heard: “As many loaves of bread as you bake for me, I will give
you children.”
The saint knew right away it was the same man as the woman
had described. Perhaps, the beggar had come to taunt the saint about
the state of affairs.
He went over to the man and kneeled down next to him. The
beggar’s head was lowered, and the man just kept saying the same
thing, again and again, taking no notice of the saint.
The friend of God could sense the beggar’s high degree of
spirituality and sought the man’s permission to speak. The beggar
stopped hawking his offer and was silent, awaiting the saint’s words.
The latter asked: “How, by the Grace of God, did you
accomplish giving that woman eight children, when the Book of
Destiny indicated she would have no children?”
The man, whose head continued to remain lowered, remarked:
“You obviously are not very literate, my friend. The Book of Destiny
did not show that the woman would have no children.”
The saint was taken aback by the words. “Sir,” he said, “I know
what I saw many years ago, so, I’m not exactly sure what you mean
by my lack of literacy.”
“Well,” said the beggar, “if you really knew how to read the
Book of Destiny, you should have realized the Book did not indicate
that the woman would have no children. Rather, the space next to
her name was blank.
“When she brought eight loaves of bread to me, I merely filled
in the amount next to her name in the Book of Destiny and God
completed the transaction.” He said it in such a way as if he might
have been saying: ‘It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”
He continued on: “People of spiritual literacy know how to both
read and write with respect to the Book of Destiny. Since, apparently,
you do not know how to read and write in relation to that Book, then,
presumably, you lack a certain degree of literacy in such matters.”
When he had finished his explanation he began repeating: “As
many loaves as you bake for me, I will give you children,” to no one
in particular.
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