Japanese boy teaches lesson in sacrifice
EDITOR'S note:
THIS letter, written by Vietnamese immigrant Ha Minh Thanh working in Fukushima as a policeman to a friend in Vietnam, was posted on New America Media on March 19. It is a testimonial to the strength of the Japanese spirit, and an interesting slice of life near the epicenter of Japan 's
crisis at the Fukushima nuclear power plant. It was translated by NAM editor Andrew Lam, author of "East Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres." Shanghai Daily condensed it.
Brother,
How are you and your family? These last few days, everything was in chaos.
When I close my eyes, I see dead bodies. When I open my eyes, I also see
dead bodies.
Each one of us must work 20 hours a day, yet I wish there were 48 hours in
the day, so that we could continue helping and rescuing folks.
We are without water and electricity, and food rations are near zero. We
barely manage to move refugees before there are new orders to move them
elsewhere.
I am currently in Fukushima , about 25 kilometres away from the nuclear
power plant. I have so much to tell you that if I could write it all down,
it would surely turn into a novel about human relationships and behaviours
during times of crisis.
People here remain calm - their sense of dignity and proper behaviour are
very good - so things aren't as bad as they could be. But given another
week, I can't guarantee that things won't get to a point where we can no
longer provide proper protection and order.
They are humans after all, and when hunger and thirst override dignity,
well, they will do whatever they have to do. The government is trying to
provide supplies by air, bringing in food and medicine, but it's like
dropping a little salt into the ocean.
Brother, there was a really moving incident. It involves a little Japanese
boy who taught an adult like me a lesson on how to behave like a human
being.
Last night, I was sent to a little grammar school to help a charity
organization distribute food to the refugees. It was a long line that snaked
this way and that and I saw a little boy around 9 years old. He was wearing
a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.
It was getting very cold and the boy was at the very end of the line. I was
worried that by the time his turn came, there wouldn't be any food left. So
I spoke to him. He said he was at school when the earthquake happened. His
father worked nearby and was driving to the school. The boy was on the third
floor balcony when he saw the tsunami sweep his father's car away.
I asked him about his mother. He said his house is right by the beach and
that his mother and little sister probably didn't make it. He turned his
head and wiped his tears when I asked about his relatives.
The boy was shivering so I took off my police jacket and put it on him.
That's when my bag of food ration fell out. I picked it up and gave it to
him. "When it comes to your turn, they might run out of food. So here's my
portion. I already ate. Why don't you eat it?"
The boy took my food and bowed. I thought he would eat it right away, but he
didn't. He took the bag of food, went up to where the line started and put
it where all the food was waiting to be distributed.
I was shocked. I asked him why he didn't eat it and instead added it to the
food pile. He answered: "Because I see a lot more people hungrier than I am.
If I put it there, then they will distribute the food equally."
When I heard that I turned away, so that people wouldn't see me cry.
A society that can produce a 9-year-old who understands the concept of
sacrifice for the greater good must be a great society, a great people.
--
"Keep your heart open to dreams. For as long as there's a dream, there is
hope, and as long as there is hope, there is joy in living."
Anonymous
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