Chapter 6 Pilgrimage Day 10

Diary of the White Bush Clover

Day 10 (15 October) Abazaki to Gamagori

Last night I enjoyed talking with the Abe family until 1 o’clock in the morning. In the morning they came with me to the sub-temple of Kenkoku-ji to pray over the notebook.

At 8 o’clock I started walking along Route 247. After a little while it became a country road. Running beside the road was the Tōkaidō railway. In some of the train carriages I could see school children on an excursion. They waved at me as the trains passed going west and east. I remembered when I was a school girl going on field trips by train many, many years ago. I also had talked with my friends and waved to people on the road.

While I walked I ate onigiri, rice balls wrapped in seaweed. It was not good manners to eat and walk but I did not have much time. It was a very simple road. I walked for six hours, step by step. Sometimes I stopped to look at the map to make sure of where I was. The map was completely boro boro after being opened and closed so many times. I repaired it with many pieces of cellophane tape.

At last I could see the sea. I had not seen it for a long time. The sun was setting against the horizon and the silver waves were shining in the sunset. I arrived at a city. On my right side I could see Takeshima, an island that held a special honzon of Benten, the Shinto water goddess. Today was the Benten festival and many stalls had been set up. I went to Takeshima to pray to Benten and came back to the mainland.

Finally I reached Takeshima Hotel. My room had an ocean view. The sea breeze softly brushed my cheek. I saw someone fishing. Everywhere the sky and the sea were turning red in the sunset. I took a bath and then went for a walk along the seashore. It was hard to walk on the sand and my legs were very tired but after soaking in the hot water of the o-furo I needed to stretch my legs. The fish I had for dinner was delicious. After dinner I wrote in my diary.

The son of the hotel owner came into my room and I talked with him about my diary. “You walked from Kyōto?” he asked, surprised. I said, “Please do not forget the many people who lost their lives in the war.” He was a young man but he cried listening to my story. Nowadays many young people say, “Why didn’t they refuse to go to the war?” Or they say, “It’s nonsense to die for one’s country.” But this young boy had a gentle, pure mind, so he could understand. I try not to push my ideas on young people. I just talk to them and some day they may understand the real meaning of the preciousness of life.