Woo-Hoo Sally mentioned to me in a comment that maybe she should write about her family’s history. She’s Japanese on her Mom’s side. Well, I’m Japanese on my exchange student/daughter’s side. ;o) OK, so I can’t really count that. But I can talk about it so you can see just how small the world is, and how “nice” can make it even smaller.
My exchange student/daughter’s name is Anna, and her Mom, Kaori, and I have been penpals for about seven years now.
I have enjoyed learning about her life, her family and her home town of Chiba. I tell her about life here in West Virginia, and we marvel over differences and at the same time are not that surprised to find out how alike we are.
One day, Kaori told me her Dad had been diagnosed with cancer. She was folding senbazuru, or one thousand origami cranes, for him. I didn’t know what that was, so she explained.
There is a Japanese belief that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, you will have a wish granted. In a case like this, when someone you love is ill, you fold 1,000 paper cranes and wish for them to be well.
I think this is the most beautiful custom I have ever heard of, anywhere in the world. To me, these cranes are visible prayers.
Being a naïve American, I asked if I could help fold cranes for her Dad. I didn’t know if this would be in poor taste, but Kaori was happy to have help. I bought the paper and learned to make the cranes, and with each fold line I prayed that he would be well again. I wore holes in both my thumbnails with all the folding.
When her Dad learned that some American woman he’d never met folded cranes for him, well, I don’t think he knew what to think. He fought in a war against us. His opinion of Americans was not that great. Of course, I hadn’t even thought of that! For my whole life, our countries have been good friends.
Her Dad recovered. The cranes hung in their house and they would look at them often, a symbol of the prayers for his health. He and his wife would ask about me whenever they talked to Kaori. They began to think of me as family. They sent me kimonos, one from Kaori, one from her Mom (which she made to wear to her sister’s wedding, I am wearing it in the photo) and the one her Dad wore when he was presented as a baby at the shrine, kind of like a baptismal gown would be to us.
Kaori’s parents are studying English now. Her Dad went from thinking of us as enemies to feeling he had family he’d never met here. When his granddaughter came to live with us, it only strengthened our bond.
I have Japanese family now, too. You won’t know it by looking at me, but I do. It’s a very small world if you’re willing to reach out to people.
If you’ve been “networking” (playing!) on Active Rain, you didn’t need me to tell you this. I have friends all over the country now (and Hi, Canada!) because either I or they reached out. Send a little email or make a call, and surprise – the world just got a little smaller again.
P.S. Kaori and I have folded senbazuru two other times, for a friend of mine and for a child who was a friend-of-a-friend. In each case, the person has healed. No magic there, but a lot of answered prayers.
Sarah- I know this is an old post, but I had to update you on our recent experience with the cranes. Our dear neighbor has been fighting cancer for a while and last month, after being hospitalized, was brought home for hospice care. After reading your post, my girls decided to make the cranes for him. After a week, they had made about 64. We decided there might not be enough time to make 1000, so they hung the ones they did make on a mobile and took it over. The cranes hung from the ceiling where he could see them dance in the air. I'm sad to say, our dear neighbor passed yesterday, thankfully in his sleep. The amazing thing was his wife told us the cranes were the one thing that really gave him peace and he enjoyed seeing them every day. I'm grateful to you for the inspiration, thank you.
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