On the banks of the holy Ganga there lived a sage of great tapasya, whose prayers held such power that blessings flowed through his hands. One morning, as he stood in the river, a hawk flying overhead let slip its catch, and a tiny baby mouse fell trembling into his palms. The kind sage could not abandon the frightened little creature. By the strength of his penance he turned her into a baby girl and carried her home to his wife, who had no children and welcomed the child with tears of joy.
The girl grew up in the hermitage, graceful and sweet, and when she came of age the sage said to his wife, “Our daughter must have the finest husband in all creation.” So he called upon the Sun. “Radiant one, marry my daughter!” But the girl shaded her eyes: “Father, he burns so fiercely — is there no one greater?” The Sun himself said humbly, “The Cloud is greater than I, for he can cover me.” The sage summoned the Cloud, but the girl found him dark and cold and asked for someone greater still. “The Wind is greater,” said the Cloud, “for he blows me across the sky.” Yet the Wind was too restless for her — and he confessed, “The Mountain is greater than I, for he stands unmoved by all my storms.”
So the sage brought his daughter before the Mountain, vast and still. But the maiden frowned: “He is so hard and unmoving, father. Is anyone greater than he?” And the Mountain rumbled gently, “There is indeed. The little mouse is greater than I — he pierces me through and through, and makes his home in my very heart, and I cannot stop him.”
The sage sent for the king of the mice, and the moment the girl saw him, her face lit up with happiness for the first time. “Father! This one! With him alone I feel at home. Make me a mouse again and let me marry him.” Smiling at the ways of nature, the sage turned her back into a little mouse, and she went joyfully to her husband's burrow. For whatever form the body takes, the heart returns to its own kind — nature always prevails.