Disciple: You have so many children (initiated disciples), Do you remember all of them?
Mother: No, I do not remember everyone of them.
Disciple: Then, how can you say that you do spiritual practices, for all?
Mother: I tell beads for all those whose names I can recall. And for those whom I cannot remember, I pray to the Master saying, "Thakur, I have so many children in various places. I cannot remember the names of many of them. You kindly look after them. Kindly look after their well-being."
The Gospel of The Holy Mother - Section II (22) -(RECORDED BY RECORDED BY INDU BHUSHAN SENGUPTA): Page 326-327
Ambāstotram: Hymn to the Divine Mother
by Swami Vivekananda
By SM | Published: JULY 23, 2009
This beautiful hymn to the Divine Mother was composed in Sanskrit by Swami Vivekananda. The translation is by Swami Ashokananda.
A Hymn to the Mother
by Swami Vivekananda
(translated from the Sanskrit)
O beautiful, auspicious One, holding in Thy hands pleasure and pain—
who art Thou?
The waters of existence are whirled to mighty bursting waves—
Is it, O Mother, to restore the shattered calm
That Thou art ceaselessly active in the universe?
To friend and foe Thy lotus eyes are even;
On fortunate and unfortunate Thou layest Thy hand alike;
Deathlessness and the shadow of death are equally Thy mercy.
O Mother, O supreme One, may Thy gracious glances never forsake me!
May She, whose action knows no respite,
Who constantly brings about the fruit of actions done, and shapes actions yet to be,
May She always bestow Her blessings upon me!
She it is, I know certainly, who holds the ropes of karma.
Without Her, where is virtue, where vice?
Where is destiny—“the writing on the forehead”?
Without Her, where is action, where the fruit of action?
May She, the cords of whose sovereign will control all laws,
May She, the Primal One, shelter me everlastingly!
Oh, where shall I find refuge save in Her,
whose glories manifest in the universe in powers immeasurable,
Whose powers swell the ocean of birth and death
And transform the immutable into the changing and divided?
How infinitely great is the Mother, and how inadequate the praise I sing of Her—
I, so poor of understanding!
It is as if I desired to seize with my hands the sole Sustainer of the universe!
So, at Her blessed feet, the abode of fearlessness,
Meditated on by the very goddess of grace and glory,
Adored by those devoted to Her service—I take refuge.
Whether I succeed or fail,
She, who has ever inspired my understanding on the earth,
Who, devising sweet playful ways, has led me, since by birth,
Along the most painful paths to Perfection—
She, the Mother, the All, is my refuge.
from The Voice of India, published by the
Vedanta Society of Northern California in the 1940s.