The Particular Shirts

Looking at a man who is to stick to something, I would be had better forget about it. But the man seemed to find his being of a merit by keeping something worthless. I think that is strange.
There is a shirt here. I was very fond of it, and it was worn by my brother once. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea why it is for my brother? Or don’t I? In any case, I asked him importantly for it.
“Why do you want it?”
He was amazed at me, but he said he would give it to me, if I passed the test. Of course, he didn’t think that his sister could pass at all. But I could get the full score for the first time since entering the junior school.
That was an English proverb test. I thought I could pass it if I tried earnestly. From then the shirt has reminded of me my honor. When I felt inferior to my brother, I was the shirts.
　My brother was superior in studying to my sister. She was thought by the same teacher, and he said something disagreeable to her, and she was hurt. I had an inferiority complex for them very much. My brother and sister and I had difficult personalities from each teacher, but I’m proud of the differences we have in our lives.
One day, I was urging with my mother, so I couldn’t manage me. I went to my sister who sold cars in Hachioji. She consulted to me in busy working time.
“What! You were urging so thing.
It was two hours to meet her, but I’ve forgotten what I was particular about only by saying so.
I make it the fort of my own heart by sticking to one piece of shirt. It can be concerned with being solved problems by abandoning it.
I think there is various ways to stick.

The Incident of Bouillabaisse

The day before we arrived in Boston, the television news said it would be cold to the point of ¬－40 ℃.　My cousin and I landed at the Boston airport which was covered by a lot of snow. Luckily for us the weather got nicer and nicer from that day. I jumped up and said “Boston! Boston!”, because I felt glad to have come there.
A black man walked by me.
“This is not Japan!” my cousin reproved me.
An accident happened the following day.
At night, after sightseeing in the city guided by my old friend who lived in Boston, we were brought to a lobster restaurant by a man who knew my cousin’s father.
It was next to another lobster restaurant which we had been brought to by a local couple the day before .I thought it was no problem, and I would eat it thankfully.
Because I felt full already, having eaten three kinds of fried food, I wanted to eat it too; therefore we ordered the fried oysters along with the lobster. Soon a waiter brought a dish of Bouillabaisse and put it in front of my cousin. She forget to share it with me, absorbed in talking with the man, ate all of it.
She took the half of the fried oysters which came afterwards to another dish, and put the dish where she could see it. And she ate that up too. I ate only half of and I felt crying.
The man gave us a ride, after dinner, to the hotel which we were staying. But he offered to show us the night view of Boston, and our car passed the hotel.
I cried tearfully, feeling sentimental, because I ate only a half plate of fried oysters and drank a few glasses of wine felt hungry. After we came back to the hotel, I said to her.
“We are going to travel together one more week, so I don’t like to be quiet about this, I want to say it now…We ordered Bouillabaisse together, didn’t we? Why did you eat it all by yourself? For there was another man, I couldn’t say that to you, and I’d already enough of fried food for lunch.”
“I’m sorry, but I have done that before. I have eaten up all dishes which I ordered with my friends. Wouldn’t you feel awful for food troubles? Aha ha…”
It was a joke but I felt like dying,
After sightseeing Boston, we flew to Rochester where my brother was studying. Taking care of my niece who had been born a month before, my cousin said to my brother and his wife the incident of Bouillabaisse.
I just laughed and didn’t say anything.
I thought remember it as a part of memory of the U.S.A. journey.
I thought again how delicious the Asian foods when my brother brought us to a Vietnamese restaurant which was the only Asian restaurant in the city. And probably in Boston, I think Lobster and Bouillabaisse which I could not eat would have been the most delicious food there.





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The Death of a Rugby Player

　There were something brought about by the death of a young man, it was neither grief nor despair. Although not many people knew that be lived in such a way that brought brightness and hope in other people’s lives.
He was a rugby player who died from a brain tumor when he was only 18 years old. Although I never met him I knew of him from my mother who was very good friends with his mother. His mother had written an essay about him called“Flying to heaven” or “The Ascension”in a book entitled Hisho (published by Shuei-sha in Japan) and a best-seller in1978. It is a record of his adolescence describing how he lived. I was touched by his history. There is a photograph printed in the book which shows him laughing. I had it in my bag when I went to school.
　I don’t like philosophy called ,“kajinhakumei (ka beautiful + jin person + haku thin + mei life)which literally translated to,―”a beautiful woman is destined to die young.; however beauty and fortune seldom go together. (Origin: Chinese classics). I wondered why such a nice boy had to die. He was so innocent.
Although he endured much pain from the tumor and was afraid of those around him, he didn’t complain.
I know I’m neither a saint nor noble man, but I say it is better to show happiness than to cry and complain. Yet, I have pains, in my body and have been feeling anxious about my health more than　anything recently , because I’ m getting older .
I don’t think I should say that “I should have died” because someone like him. But I feel that the strongest prayer for me calling his name in my mind. Doing that makes my heart felt lighter, as if　I went　through a tunnel. As a result my pain unre lentlessly lessened.
A young man’s life which is full of troubles can change with a little hope pray of us.
Life is paradox. I believe that if live by goodness, hope won’t be lost. 　

I made Japanese sweets in Canada

Since I had a lesson how to make Japanese sweets called “Momiji-maple leaf; my memory had been that I want to go to Canada and make them because Canada is famous for maple leaves. It was realized before the last year when I went to Victoria, Canada at the beginning of the autumn when maple leaf season started.
Although I checked ingredients of Japanese sweets, I found I forgot to bring Shiratama-ko-Japanese rice powder- when I arrived at my host family house. But luckily there was a Japanese grocery shop nearby my home stay houses. They had not only rice, miso, and tofu, but Shiratama-ko and Anko-Japanese beans paste.
In the morning I studied English, in the afternoon went to sightseeing, and I introduced Japanese culture to my host family. On the last day, my host mother left me to do all the work of cooking, so, I went shopping to the Japanese grocery shop and supermarket and made Japanese sweets “Momiji with my host mother,: After the Japanese meal, I made Japanese powdered green tea and served them. It was a very wonderful night in my life! It was night I will never forget. It will always cherish the memory of that night.