Japanese miss because of superstition! Roses do not look beautiful to us because they have harmful thorns.”
“And how much joy you have because of traditions,” said Mother, smiling. “In the poem you taught me last night,
“The sacred lotus that bravely lifts its snowy head in purity and beauty,
Although its roots are buried in earthly mire,
Holds a lesson of pride and inspiration.
“Have you another blossom that is ‘a teacher’?"
“And the modest plum,” I answered quickly, “that blossoms on snow-laden branches, is a bridal flower, because it teaches courage and endurance.”
“And how about the cherry?” asked Mother.
“Oh, that has an important meaning,” I quickly replied.
“The quick-falling cherry, that lives but a day
And dies with destiny unfulfilled,
Is the brave spirit of samurai youth,
Always ready, his fresh young strength
To offer to his lord.”
“Bravo!” Mother cried, clapping her hands. “This is a real, albeit a second-rate, poetry contest that you and I are having. Do you know any more flower poems?”
“Oh, yes-Morning glories!” And I rapidly recited in Japanese:
“In the dewy freshness of the morning, they smile respectful greetings to the goddess of the Sun.”
Oh, Mother, this is just like Japan—the way you and I are doing now! Japanese people often gather—a group of friends—and write poems. They meet at a Flower Viewing festival and hang poems on the flowery branches; or at a moon-gazing party where they sit in the light of the
