Early in the morning, a young woman was walking down the street carrying a large basket in both hands.
I sat on a bench in the park and took a rest. Looking up at the sky, I saw dark gray clouds moving sideways, and I felt like I was being taken somewhere with them. Looking down, I saw a carpet of dead leaves, which seemed to be my guidepost. "I'm sure I'm being guided in the right direction," I thought, standing up, carefully carrying my basket, and leaving the park.
Then, the sky became cloudy and it looked like it was about to rain. A strong cold wind started to blow, so the woman hurried on. She kept walking, careful of the contents of the basket. The rain started to come down violently, and she was soaked in an instant. The basket was also splashed with water.
The woman was walking down a deserted street when she suddenly stopped in front of a house. The wall facing the street was decorated with many flowers. As she looked at the pale pink, yellow, and white flowers, the woman calmed down a little.
But then he did something unexpected: he walked up to the front door of the house, quietly placed the basket in front of the door, and then walked away, muttering something to himself and looking back several times.
Pastor Makoto, who wakes up at 6am every morning, was especially busy that day. He was listening to the news on TV, preparing breakfast and answering phone calls.
Unlike when I was in Brazil, in addition to being a pastor, I was also involved in city hall work. Since the area had a lot of Brazilian dekasegi (a type of worker), I was in charge of Portuguese interpretation and document translation. I was busy every day, but I was thankful to God.
But this morning was special. The first typhoon in about three months was expected to hit, so I had to get in touch with a lot of people. I had to inform Brazilians and Peruvians who didn't speak Japanese about the typhoon, and I also had to check on the safety of elderly people in the area.
His wife, Chie, was in the room on the second floor preparing to welcome their children. She looked after their three young children every day. All three were Japanese-Brazilian children, and she had decided to take them in because they had not been able to adapt to Japanese daycare centers.
Thinking that the children would soon be arriving, Chie opened the door and her eyes fell on a basket on the ground. She immediately called her husband and the two of them approached. Then, they heard crying. Then, they saw a white cloth from inside the basket. The next moment, the basket moved!
Pastor Makoto gently picked up the basket and put it inside the house. Chie-san was not the type to be easily startled, but this time she was speechless.
When I opened the basket completely, I found a baby wrapped in pure white clothes. I had heard a cry just moments ago, but the baby was sleeping soundly.
"I wonder what circumstances brought this little life into our home," she asked, turning to her husband, as Pastor Makoto picked up the baby in both arms and handed it to Chie.
Suddenly, Chie-san's eyes welled up with tears. With her apple-like cheeks and petal-like mouth, she looked just like an angel. She looked like an angel of God who had suddenly come to visit.
And then the tears started flowing and I couldn't stop.
The same was true for Pastor Makoto. He came close to his wife and put his hand on her shoulder. Then, they both cried. It was the first time in seven years that he had shed tears, and he felt deeply moved.
In fact, seven years ago, at 7:15 on a cold June morning, my daughter Ryoko suddenly passed away and went to heaven, just one month before her first birthday.
The beautiful white dress that had been lovingly made was never put on. The birthday party for their first grandchild, which Pastor Makoto's parents had been looking forward to, was also canceled. Regretting his death at such a young age, Chie became ill and returned to her parents' home in Japan. Then, six months later, Pastor Makoto also moved to Japan.
The couple had become completely accustomed to their new life and were living happily. They kept the memories of their only daughter, Ryoko, secretly hidden deep in their hearts. They never spoke about it, and were concerned about each other. They never mentioned it.
The baby suddenly started crying, so Chie took him to a room on the second floor. Pastor Makoto searched inside the basket and found something. It was an amulet with a statue of a saint on it. On the back, it was inscribed with "Mayumi1987." "It must indicate the mother's name and year of birth. And this statue of a saint is worshipped as the patron saint of Brazil. She must be Brazilian."
Having found a clue, Pastor Makoto quickly notified his wife and rushed to the hospital by bicycle, where he found Dr. Alice, a Japanese-Brazilian obstetrician-gynecologist who was relied on by the women working there.
When I told the doctor about this morning's incident, he couldn't think of any patient named "Mayumi," but he checked the charts. In the end, he couldn't find anything.
Two hours later, Dr. Alysse went directly from the hospital to Pastor Makoto's house to examine the baby and reassure everyone. A large crowd had gathered in the large room where weekend services were held. With a typhoon approaching, it was dangerous to walk outside, but everyone rushed in to help.
The women prepared clothes for a girl about five months old and called and emailed their dekasegi acquaintances to let them know about the baby. The men split up and went to police stations, hospitals and clinics in the town to search for clues.
Pastor Makoto prayed to God that "Mayumi" would be safe.
"The Lord will give his angels commandment over you to guard you in all your ways"
Psalm 91:11
© 2012 Laura Honda-Hasegawa
