Touched by Divine Grace: Incidents from Swami Vivekananda’s
These are incidents from Swami Vivekananda's life where mother divine intervened on her child's behalf.
Lord Rama feeds Vivekananda
Once, a devotee bought Swami Vivekananda a second-class train ticket—a very basic fare—and came to see him off with folded hands and heartfelt goodbyes. In the same compartment sat a Marwari businessman. It was an unbearably hot day, and as the train rattled along, the businessman pulled out a container of cool, sweet drink and a few rich sweets.
Noticing the silent, weary monk sitting opposite him, the man remarked casually, “Why don’t you work hard like me and earn money? Then you too can enjoy the pleasures of life.”
Swami Vivekananda had not eaten for two days, yet he said nothing in reply. He simply sat there, calm and composed, without a trace of complaint on his face.
When the train reached its destination, both the businessman and Swami Vivekananda stepped onto the platform. Just outside, a sweetmeat seller stood waiting with a large plate full of delicacies and a chair prepared specially for Swamiji.
Startled, Swamiji asked, “What is all this? And for whom?”
The sweetmeat seller folded his hands and said with reverence, “Sir, this is for you. This afternoon, while I was napping, Lord Rama appeared in my dream and said, ‘My devotee has been fasting for days. Go feed him with sweets.’ So here I am.”
Swami Vivekananda’s eyes welled with tears—not from hunger, but from the overwhelming grace that the Divine had once again chosen to bestow upon him.
A Test of Providence at the Govardhan Hills
During his parikrama (circumambulation) of the sacred Govardhana Hills, Swami Vivekananda resolved not to beg for food. He vowed to accept only what was offered to him unasked — a test of his surrender to divine providence.
The sun was scorching, the air thick with humidity, and occasional rain added to the discomfort. Swamiji, exhausted and hungry, pressed on in silence, refusing to let his body’s weakness dictate his will. Hours passed, and he came close to collapsing from fatigue and hunger.
Just then, a voice called out from behind, “Babaji! Please stop — I’ve brought food for you!”
Vivekananda, not one to accept blessings without testing their source, began to run. Surprised but determined, the man sprinted after him, carrying the meal.
Swamiji ran for nearly a mile, then stopped and looked back. The man was still following, breathless yet resolute. When he finally caught up, he pleaded, “Please accept this. I was compelled to bring it to you.”
Seeing the depth of sincerity — and the mysterious timing — Swamiji accepted the food. As he sat down to eat, he smiled quietly, deeply satisfied: the Divine had passed his test.
Monkey Stole the Monk's Cloth
During his wandering days, Swami Vivekananda once journeyed from the Govardhana Hills to Radhakund. He intended to take a bath in the sacred lake. At the time, he had nothing but a single piece of clothing—a simple loin cloth. Before stepping into the lake, he removed it and hung it nearby to dry.
After finishing his bath and returning to the spot, he was surprised to find the cloth missing. Looking around, he spotted a monkey sitting on a tree, mischievously clutching the loin cloth in its hands. Swamiji tried everything to coax the monkey into dropping it, but the animal held on tightly and refused.
With quiet acceptance, Swamiji gave up and started walking into the forest, unclothed, his dignity intact and his mind composed. As he walked, a stranger suddenly appeared before him and, without a word, offered him an ochre robe—the traditional attire of a monk—along with some food. Swamiji gratefully accepted both.
After eating, as he passed by the lake on his way back, he was astonished to find his original cloth exactly where he had left it, as if it had never been taken.
Swamiji realized yet again that for the one who lives in surrender to the Divine, even the smallest needs are looked after. What disappears is returned, what is lacking is provided—just at the right time.