This journey of hardship and difficulty continued for about two months. On our way back down from our visit to the Zenkōji Temple, we, an exhausted mother and daughter, approached a fork in the road. The sun had already fallen behind the mountains and we were alone on the darkening path. We were at a complete loss as to where to go. In those days, it was often said that many Japanese wolves and wild boars lived in the mountains between Okumikawa and Shinshū. Having often heard the terrifying stories of the wolves and bears and the destruction they would visit upon families and livestock, we had no desire to spend the night in the mountains. My mother prayed with her eyes wide open, made up her mind, then set me on her back. Then, taking one step forward, she set off on her path. Perhaps she left her luck to heaven. What else could she have done? Soon, we came across a fallen stone. It was a signpost.

In the evening twilight, we read the sign by tracing it with our fingers and found that it read: “Kakinomichi: Go Right”. My mother praised the divine guidance of the great Zenkōji Temple and wept tears of joy. After that we hurried to an inn called “Kakinono-Oyado“. That night, around eight o’clock, my mother and I checked into the inn and were given hot soup. This is how we were able to make our return trip and avoid ending up as food for wolves.

Although my mother was illiterate, owing to the necessity of recording her sales activity and feeling that her memory alone would be insufficient, she had acquired the skills of reading and writing hiragana. If we hadn’t been able to read “Kakinomichi: Go Right” when we found the signpost, what would have become of us? My mother had discovered the value of literacy.