One day Lord Brahma stole away all of Krishna's cowherd boys and calves. And Krishna grew anxious — not over the universe, but over something plain: "If I come home without my friends, mother will give me a slap and twist my ear". Out of this fear of his mother he expanded himself — he became all the calves and boys at once. And for a whole year he played the part. Every morning he lies in bed, and his mother comes to wake him: "Get up, your friends are already knocking at the door". But it was he himself knocking at the door. "Krishna, rise, it's time to take the calves out". For a whole year he kept up this masquerade to hide that he had lost his friends, so his mother would not be angry with him. And when the year was over and Brahma returned, each of those boys and calves manifested a four-armed form of Vishnu. Brahma gazed at the boundless waves of opulence, unable to take them in, amazed. But do you know who was amazed even more? All those countless Vishnus — they were all gazing at Krishna, a simple village cowherd boy.