When spring comes, I remember.
The avenue of cherry blossom trees I walked along with my mother, hand in hand, on the way to my nursery school.
I skipped and jumped, lifting my feet high above.
Tatta rattata, tatta rattata ♫
I never forget my mother’s singing, making songs up on the spot.
I skipped along, lifting my knees even higher as I skipped to her exhilarating rhythm.
The graceful sunlight and the happiness that I felt back then, giggling as I held my mother’s hand and jumped up are imprinted on my memory.
My mother’s hands felt soft, fluffy and warm, gentle hands that protected me. It filled me with joy when she moved her hands up and down in time with my skipping, as though she was skipping together with me.
Sometimes, a gentle breeze would softly caress my cheeks, and cherry blossom petals fluttered through the air, landing softly on my shoulders and hat.
I wrapped those pale pink, delicate petals in my handkerchief quietly and took them home.
Spring is also the season I was born in.
The cheery sound of the words of “Happy Birthday” excited me with some expectations without reason.
It also coincided with the start of new school years, and entrance ceremonies at nursery, primary, secondary schools as well as university, and the feeling of hope that came alongside the nervous excitement and the sunshine have been etched, layered and accumulated in my heart over the years.
But as I grew older and experienced springs that left behind some sorrow and despairing memories, it started to feel increasingly difficult to hide my heart-wrenching sadness when I saw the cherry blossom petals scattering in the wind.
The mixed feelings of hope and despair, joy and sorrow make me want to be kind to those around me.
As the temperature rose, and the snow on the roadside started melting, I’ve always felt spring was a season of renewal, even when I was facing unpleasant events or suffered with problems.
It was a gentle season where the word “hope” came to mind, as the sunlight became softer than ever.
With the recent climate change, I feel it has become more difficult to entrust my heart to the changing seasons. There is also the deterioration of the global situation, the brutal war that never seem to end, which is no doubt, a slaughter. We see on the news, destroyed buildings, the once beautiful towns reduced to ashes and people weeping and mourning, wounded children standing there in a daze…
When the news footage changes and we see people admiring the cherry blossoms here in Japan, I feel pains in my heart. As the cherry blossoms bloom in full and when we are filled with the sense of gentleness, I feel more guilt within me for those who are exposed to the tribulations of war.
At the start of this spring, I find myself just praying with all my heart, that the ordinary everyday life would return as soon as possible to everyone, where people all over the world can admire flowers and enjoy music in the gentle breeze.