In plain words
Near our Anantapur there is Śrīśailam. All of you know it. Near it there is a village. In that village a mother and her child of seven years, called Rāmuḍu, lived as a family. She sent him to the street schools, and because she had lost her husband, in her eagerness to make something of this only son somehow or other, she went through hardships of many kinds and kept him at his studies. The little children who studied with him at that school called him Rāmanna, Rāmanna. That boy's age would have been only seven or eight. This Śivarātri drew near. Here in Rāyalasīma it is the custom to invite daughters and sons-in-law home for the festival of Śivarātri. All the classmates, playing with that boy, were talking among themselves in this way: “Tomorrow our sister and brother-in-law are coming, we are so happy, we will celebrate the festival in our house.” Then this boy too came home and asked his mother, “Do I have a sister and a brother-in-law?” “Mother, do I have a sister too? Where is she, where is my brother-in-law?” So he kept asking. This boy was an innocent who knew nothing, poor thing. Before him there had been a daughter, they say. That child had died suddenly. When she remembered that child, the mother shed tears, but not wanting to tell her son this sorrowful thing, she wiped her eyes: “Son, you have a sister.” So she consoled him. “Tell me where she is; I must go and bring her. I must bring my sister and brother-in-law. All my friends are having their sisters and brothers-in-law come. I too must have my sister and brother-in-law brought,” he insisted. Unable to bear his pestering, the mother, so as to tell him something or other, quiet him and send him off: “Your sister is there, son, in Śrīśailam; Bhramarāmba is your sister. Mallikārjuna is your brother-in-law,” she said.
He believed his mother's words completely. This is not blind belief. It is a faith that came from the heart. “Then, Mother, you and I will both go and bring my sister and brother-in-law. Let us celebrate Śivarātri in our house too,” he said. That boy was no ordinary boy. Not satisfied at all with what his mother had said, he insisted that somehow or other he must bring his sister and brother-in-law home. To get out of it, the mother gave him excuses of many kinds. ‘Son! We must keep Śivarātri at home, mustn't we? If your sister and brother-in-law come, we must make all kinds of arrangements, mustn't we? If I come too, how will that work? I cannot come,’ she said. The boy did not give up. “I will go myself,” he said. To satisfy the boy, when two or three elders of the village were going, she sent the child to Śrīśailam with them.