Devala had touched the great Spirit and entered the sea of the Lord's love. But before Uddhava finished his teaching, the old sage wanted to give Devala one last picture to carry with him for the rest of his days.

They walked together to the wide river at evening, where a ferryman waited beside his boat to carry travellers to the far shore, the shore of home.

"Watch the travellers," said Uddhava.

The first traveller refused the boat. "I will swim across by my own strength," he boasted, and threw himself into the current. The river was vast and tireless, and soon he was struggling, far from both shores.

The second traveller stepped into the boat but could not stop fretting. He grabbed an oar, then dropped it; he leaned this way and that, sure he must do everything himself. He wore himself out and never noticed the boatman at all.

The third traveller was an old woman with a basket of work — mending, weaving, a meal to cook for her grandchildren. She climbed calmly into the boat and kept right on with her tasks, her fingers busy the whole way across. But all the while, she trusted the ferryman completely. She did her work; he did the carrying. And so, without strain or fear, she was brought safe and gentle to the far shore — to home.

"There," said Uddhava. "You need not stop your work and leap into the river alone. Keep doing all your tasks, every day, the way that old woman kept weaving. But lean your whole weight on the Boatman. Take refuge in the Lord. Do your part, and trust him for the crossing."

Devala watched the old woman step out onto the home shore, smiling, her basket full.

"It is His grace that carries us across," said the sage. "Not the splashing of our own arms. Work with all your heart, and trust him all the way to the eternal home that never fades."