It was the end of December 1919(Taishō 8) when my mother heard the news that she could listen to a sermon by Monk Okunokōri, in whose Buddhism teachings she had a firm faith, at Enkōji Temple in Sakurai Village and braved the cold to visit there for her usual observances. That evening, she went to bed, mentioning that she might be coming down with a cold. Well, it wasn’t a cold, but a journey to her final rest. Her passing happened on December 25th, at about seven o’clock in the evening. At the time of her death, she was seventy-six years old. You could say that she had lived a full life.

She became very religious early on and that seemed to remain the case throughout her life. She felt that it was inexcusable not to do things by oneself, so every day, as a menial task, she wove hempthread by hand. Every sen she received from that work, she devoted to the Buddha. She spent every day feeling joy and gratitude. “Please do not hesitate if you need anything,” I would offer, only to be answered, “I don’t need anything. What I want most is to spend time with you.” However, I had been too busy with my own life to spend much time with my mother. I still feel the regret which had me make it a rule to pray for her with her ihai, or mortuary tablet, held to my chest, wherever I go and whenever I sit vigil.

I also brought her tablet in May 1958(Shōwa 33), to have her with me when we were awarded the Medal with Blue Ribbon. In the office of the Minister of Education, I mentally offered up to her, “Mother, soon it will be my turn.” Joined together in spirit, we received the rare honor of standing before and being addressed by their majesties, the Emperor and Empress, as well as receiving an invitation to the Imperial Court. “At this moment, his Majesty is standing right before us. And now, we are addressed by them.” These were the words I spoke to my mother’s ihai with my hands on the obi of my kimono.

Every time I struggle with a matter, in public or private, I am able to persist, inspired by the memorial tablet of my mother. In April 1920(Taishō 9), following the year of my mother’s death, the number of our normal course enrollees quickly increased. At the same time the quality of our school management improved year by year.