***THE END***
OJIZOH-SAMA, THANK YOU
By Norio Naito
Once upon a time there was a young girl called Chie who lived alone with her father, Sasuke, in a small town in Mino. Chie's mother had died, and her father, who made a living helping out the village elder and going around selling such things as hairpins and combs to surrounding towns, often had to be away from home, leaving Chie alone. When the villagers saw a young girl living such a life, they advised Sasuke to marry again.
In time, he met a young woman called Otaki and asked her to be his wife. She agreed, and came to share the small house with Chie and her father. It was almost like a bright light had moved in. No mother could love a daughter more. It was as if Otaki had bore Chie from her own stomach. She bought her a new kimono, cooked her favourite foods, and brushed and styled her hair in a new way every day. The villagers heard the laughing voices coming out of the house and nodded wisely.
Several years passed, and a baby girl called Iku was born. After that, things began to change and the bright light in the house dimmed. With her own daughter to care for and love, Otaki stopped loving Chie, treating her badly and thinking up all sorts of difficult jobs for her to do.
"How late are you going to sleep?" she scolded Chie one morning, shaking her rudely out of bed. "Breakfast's ready, the yard is full of ginkgo leaves, and you're still asleep. I don't know what I did to deserve you. A good child would be up earlier than the sun."
Without complaining, Chie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stumbled out to the garden to sweep up the fallen leaves and burn them in a big barrel in the corner. But the yard was big and by the time she had finished her miso soup had gotten cold. Poor Chie ate breakfast by herself, and then had to wash all their dishes.
"Play with me, play with me," Iku begged her big sister the second she was done.
"Okay," sighed Chie, even though she knew she had many other chores to finish before the end of the day.
Chie babysat her little sister all day and only after it got dark and they were both played out and ready to sleep did she trudge back out to the garden to get their baths ready. Baths then were not like today when all you have to do is turn on the tap and hot water comes pouring out. No, first Chie had to draw up bucket after bucket of water from the well in the garden and carry them one at a time into the house to fill up the bathtub. Then, she had to start a fire under it and heat the water until it was hot. And of course it took a lot of work to gather up enough firewood to be able to do that. By the time she was done, Chie was so tired that she nodded off in the middle of supper, her head dropping right into her bowl of rice.
"Mom!" she called out in her sleep, thinking about her own kind mother and how much she missed her.
Because Sasuke was sitting there, Otaki did not scold her, but she ground her teeth around her rice, knowing her ungrateful stepdaughter was thinking about the happy times she had shared with her real mother. She ground her teeth and vowed silently to do something to teach her a lesson.
Soon after that, Sasuke had to go on a long selling trip, leaving Otaki and the children alone. It was the chance Otaki had been waiting for. She called Iku and Chie and took them out to the field next to the house, handing each of them a big bag of beans, a red bag to Chie and a blue one to Iku.
"I'm putting you in charge of these beans," Otaki said in a kinder voice than usual. "You're both big girls and it's a very important job. The family needs them to eat. But I'll warn you. If you don't take good care of them, they won't grow. And even if your heart is just a little bad, they'll die. Chie, you're the oldest, so you're responsible. Let's see if you can make those beans grow."
Happy to be given such an important job, Chie and Iku went straight to work, bending over low to sprinkle the beans on the ground, Chie on one side of the field and Iku on the other. Then, once they were done, they clasped hands, closing their eyes to pray to the Buddha for help.
"Please, help them grow. Please."
Every day, morning and night, the two sisters walked out to the field and watered the beans. On the morning of the fifth day, on the side where Iku had planted her beans, some small, white sprouts were coming up. Iku was so pleased she grabbed her sister's hands and led her in a little dance around the beans.
"Thank goodness Iku's beans are growing," Chie thought, dancing. "We owe it all to the Buddha. He saw her heart was good and made the beans grow. Mine will probably come up tomorrow."
But the sixth day and then the seventh came and passed and Chie's beans still hadn't germinated.
"I must be a rotten child," Chie said, remembering her stepmother's words. "Iku's beans are already growing and mine are still sleeping in the ground. What mother said has to be true. My soul must be bad. I have to change. Help me, Buddha. Please."
But it was no use. Ten days went by and the beans still hadn't come up. "What a stupid child," Otaki chuckled quietly to herself in the house, watching Chie fret in the field. "Doesn't she know those beans will never grow? How could they? I put fried beans in the red bag. She can water them as much as she wants. All they'll do is rot."
She waited one more day, just to let Chie worry, then called her to the house. "Chie! Come here. It's just as I thought. You're a wicked child. You must be or those beans would grow. All you think about is your real mother. I give you a home and how do you thank me? By bearing a grudge! There's only one thing to do. You'll have to leave home and ask the Buddha to heal your heart."
"Please, don't make me go! Please!" Chie begged, clinging to her stepmother. "At least wait until Dad gets back from his trip. He'll know what to do." Chie cried and cried, but it was no use.
Her stepmother's mind was made up. She was determined to get rid of her ungrateful stepdaughter.
"No. A child that bears a grudge to her mother can't stay under her roof for even a day longer. You have to leave."
But Chie didn't have any idea of where she could go. If she couldn't stay at her own house, where else was there? She sat weeping in the corner until she thought of her uncle who lived in the next village. Still sobbing, she wrapped up her spare clothes in a cloth and sadly left the house.
"No matter where you go, you'll never be able to enter this house again!" Otaki yelled, slamming the door behind her.
Thinking all the time about her real kind father and mother, Chie stumbled on the long walk to her uncle's village. She reached their house well after dark, but no one was home. They were still out in the rice fields working. When her aunt and uncle finally got back, they were surprised.
"You poor girl," her uncle said, stroking Chie's head and listening to her sad story. "You put up with a lot from your stepmother, didn't you? But no matter how badly people treat you, you have to forgive them. There's nothing to do but think deeply about what happened to you and pray to Ojizoh-sama for help."
Ojizoh was a Buddhist guardian angel for children and they added “sama” whenever they spoke his name because he was a god.
Chie listened to him, crying, but as soon as he was finished she looked into her uncle's eyes and nodded. They were clear and strong, with no deception behind them, unlike her stepmother's. She knew she could trust him.
The next day, Chie followed her uncle out to the outskirts of the village, and went to pray at the crossroads where Ojizoh lived. For one hundred days Chie prayed and, little by little, the bitterness emptied from her heart. On the night of the ninety-ninth day, in the middle of her prayers, her eyelids began to droop and she fell asleep. She began to dream about a dazzling light. When she got closer, Ojizoh revealed itself from within the light. He looked down at her and spoke in a clear, gentle voice.
"You have prayed to me a long time, Chie. I know you to be a child with a kind, beautiful heart. When you come to pray to me today, there will be a single bean in the palm of my hand. It's a strange and magical bean, the only one of its kind in the world. I want you to plant that bean next to the gingko tree beside the temple. If you do, something stra
nge and mysterious will happen."
Then, as quickly as he had appeared, Ojizoh's speech was over and he faded back into the light. The clucking of the temple's chickens woke Chie and she jumped to her feet to continue her vigil at the statue. Timidly, she looked in its palm and there, shining in the morning sun, was a single white bean. Chie took the bean and ran to the temple. There, after asking the priest if it was okay, she dug a hole beside the ginkgo tree and dropped the white bean in, where it sparkled goldly in the black earth. She sprinkled some dirt over it, shut her eyes, and put her hands together. She couldn't help remembering the words of her stepmother when she planted the first bean.
"The bean didn't come up that time. What will I do if it happens again? No, forget it. It'll grow. Because it's the bean Ojizoh-sama gave me and he said I have a good heart. But what if I plant it wrong and it doesn't grow? Oh, please help me Ojizoh-sama!"
The next morning, Chie got up early to water the bean, but, to her surprise, the bean had already sprouted! It was growing even as she stood there watching, climbing up the side of the ginkgo tree. In two or three days it was as tall as Chie, and in a week it was even taller than the ginkgo itself!
"What a strange and wonderful bean," the villagers all agreed, for they couldn't help noticing it, too. No one had ever seen such a thing before.
"Look, it's gotten even bigger than the ginkgo tree."
"I wonder what on earth kind of beans it'll grow."
"Well, whatever they are, you can be sure that they'll be strange."
Every day, a large crowd gathered to wonder on the bean tree and water it. Ten days went by, then it sprouted dozens of bean pods; great big, white flowers waving in the blue sky. The next day, the petals fluttered to the ground and the temple was covered in a sea of white, leaving the tree full of ripe, tasty beans. Hurriedly, the villagers brought their bamboo baskets to gather the beans.
"How grateful we are for these beans," they said. "But how strange they are." Seeing that, Chie put her hands together again and thanked her guardian angel for the present of the beans.
But as soon as all the beans were picked, the villagers had a problem. "We're happy for all the beans," they said, scratching their heads and looking up at the thin, empty trunk of the bean tree. "But if the tree falls, what'll we do?"
Chie's uncle conferred with the village chief and Buddhist priest and they decided to cut the tree down and make something out of the wood to show Ojizoh their gratitude. The next day, woodcutters chopped the tree down and woodcarvers carved three statues in Ojizoh's image. One of them was kept at the temple and another at the village chief's house. It was decided that Chie would carry the third one around on her back, going from village to village to tell them about the wonderful god, Ojizoh. Day after day, Chie spread the word, until one day she came to the village of Seki in Mino and stopped to take the statue down from her back and rest, where she fell asleep.
Once again, in the middle of her dream, the calm, peaceful Ojizoh appeared. "Chie. You are a child with such a good heart. You walk around carrying me on your back every day. This is a quiet village with a good view. I think I'd like to settle down here with you."
Chie was very happy to hear that, but she didn't know a single person in Seki. Where would they stay? Hoisting Ojizoh onto her back again, she walked over to Hounen Temple to ask the local priest for advice.
"That's a very difficult question," he said, listening to Chie's problem. "I'll have to pray." He bowed his head and clasped his hands together in front of Ojizoh. After some time, he got up and faced Chie.
"Ojizoh-sama has spoken to me," he said finally. "We have to be very grateful when the gods talk to us. How about if we build a big hall on the temple grounds for Ojizoh-sama to live in and you can live there and take care of him?" Then, he chanted a Buddhist mantra. The priest's words made Chie so happy her tiredness left her completely.
The priest set out at once building a temple for Ojizoh and in no time at all it was finished. Chie cut her hair and took the vows to become a nun. Every day, she cleaned the hall, cultivated flowers, and looked after the worshipers who came to honour Ojizoh.
About that time, Chie's stepmother Otaki's eyes became bad and since Sasuke still hadn't got back from his trip, little Iku had to look after her on her own. Before long, rumours of how Chie was taking care of Ojizoh reached Otaki's ears and she had the little girl lead her by the hand to Seki, where she broke down in tears in front of the temple.
"This is my punishment for all the cruel things I did to Chie," she said. "I know that and there's no excuse. I deserve to suffer. But please forgive me, Ojizoh-sama. Please let me stay by your side."
Chie saw her stepmother and hurried over to bow her head, too. "Please fix my mother's eyes, Ojizoh-sama. Please. And please have my father come home quickly." Then Iku joined them in prayer, too.
From that day on, Otaki and Iku came to live in the temple, the little girl leading her blind mother around, helping Chie look after the guardian angel. When word spread of such a pious mother and her two children caring for a god, the number of pilgrims coming to the temple began to multiply.
One night, a year later, something happened. "Otaki," a voice said. "Your heart has really become gentle here. Why don't you try and open your eyes. You should be able to see Chie's sleeping face. She's a good child with a gentle heart. It's thanks to her that I was able to settle here."
Otaki rubbed her eyes and timidly opened them. It was true! She could just faintly make out the peacefully sleeping form of Chie.
"Chie!" Otaki cried out, hugging her sleeping daughter. "I was very bad, but I've been forgiven. Thanks to you, I can see again. My eyes are healed."
Chie rubbed her sleepy eyes and it was true. Otaki's eyes looked completely better.
"Mom!" she cried, coming to cling to Otaki. Iku joined them. "Chie, can you forgive me for everything I've done to you?"
"No, Mother. I was bad, too. I kept hoping you'd go away and my real mother would come back. I'm sorry."
"No, what I did was much worse."
"We owe everything, meeting Chie again and Mother's new eyes, to Ojizoh-sama," Iku said. The three of them took each other’s hands and gave a prayer of thanks to the guardian angel. Night came, and the Eastern sky became bright. And the light came to rest in the hearts of the mother and children, too.
In the middle of his trip, Sasuke heard the rumours of the holy mother and children and, hurrying night and day, traced his way to the temple where the four of them worked to take care of
Ojizoh.
From then on, the rumour of the grateful guardian angel who protected children from sickness and listened to their prayers spread far and wide. A continuous congregation of adoring pilgrims came from far and wide to pray to the deity. The priest was so pleased he fixed up the temple even better, making it even grander and attracting more people. Rows of tea shops, gift stores and inns lined the road in front of Hounen Temple and Seki prospered. But no matter how rich it became, no one ever forgot to stop at the rows of Shinto gates in front of Hounen Temple and offer a prayer to the guardian angel made from a bean tree.
***THE END***
UNTIL THE WISTERIA PETALS FALL
By Norio Naitoh
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 29
