My mother grew up in Kokura, the north capital of the southern island of Kyushu. After she moved to Tokyo to marry my father, she learned that the food situation around Tokyo had been much worse during the war.
"We were never out of something to eat, really," she used to say. "We used to eat an bowlful of kazunoko (herring roe)". In and around Tokyo, kazunoko was considered a delicacy to be consumed at festive times, especially the new year. So there was certainly a geometrical variability in the values of marine foods.
Although the girl that was my mother never really starved, there was one particular thing that she craved for. The apples. My mother's father (my grandfather, who is sadly no longer with us) used to buy one apple for each of the children, once a month on the salary day.
My mother was the eldest child in the family. On the salary day, or rather the apple day for the children, she would take her brothers and sisters to the railway station, where they waited the father's return. Because apples were rare in Kyushu at that time, the children awaited eagerly for this monthly treat.
My mother used to tell this apple story from time to time when I was a child. Although I did not think much of it at that time, now it is fondly remembered, as a story epitomizing the essence of happiness.
6 comments:
A few days ago,a very famous Japanese actor, Morisige died.A few months ago,I watched the old movie "Muhomatu no iisyou".As you know,He acts a hero Muhomatu.
I didn't know particularly these stories of Zirotyo.But as if I were an old man(goinkyo in Japanese)I enjoyed archives very much.
That world what is uncolord and slow may be a door of future for me.Because I have sweet memories of my father,too.Thank you!
I've been reading some news reports on you, and felt despised as it seems that so many reports are putting their evil intentions in it.
I just wished you well as one of big fans.
This morning, I created a blog in English, given an inspiration from your Qualia Journal. Just wanted to thank you, and again wish you well.
I told your mother's episode to my mother, as I thought she would appriciate this story as if it were her own, and she did.
When my mother was a little girl, especially at the war time, chocolates were regarded as treasures. My mother used to keep the small piece of wrapping paper for a long time till it finally lost the sweet scent of the chocolate. I used to feel sorry for her everytime she told me about this episode, but now I could see the little girl's dreaming expression with the happiness of imagining tasting the treasure of her time.
sorry,iisyou ｘ issyou ok?
Sorry,not Muhoumatu,"Mori no Ishimatu" is correct.
Dear,Mr.Mogi
How warm story it is.
You always give something special for us.
What should I do?
May I go to your station sometime?^^
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