VINYL TREASURE FORT

It was a large vinyl rectangular package sealed up with so much masking tape it would make you wonder if there was something top secret contained inside, and enemy spies were being discouraged from finding it or something...I know. I'm being dramatic. But that's what happens when you end up staying in a chair for an hour just peeling and peeling layers of tape.

But I began seeing bulks of what looked like packets of photographs and then large envelopes of documents. But the inside vinyl showed a certificate...a bright yellow-orange diploma attesting the completion of a special wartime teaching degree...DADDY FOUND THE OLD CERTIFICATE! That was 1944! One of the first things that fell out were 2 sheets of paper. I'd been working on a family history back then and had asked my Dad to look for 20  documents and about 30 photos.

He had gone and looked for all of them--including the program of the evangelistic rally the night he was saved--and carefully taped every document, article, photograph, onto construction paper measured to fit just right in the vinyl package he prepared. He'd measured them so carefully to have them fit so well, he managed to have them all fit and stay in so good condition I was almost afraid to touch them. The outside had been protected by stiff cardboard layers, so that there were no folds or wrinkles, and the vinyl and layers of masking tape had made everything virtually waterproof.

I was noticing on the back of the Rudy Atwood "Old Fashioned Revival Hour Quartette" program put out by the Alberta Youth for Christ, its Missionary Emphasis states: "We have felt the burden to bring the Gospel to every creature in this generation around the globe--even unto the uttermost parts of the earth." I wonder if the person who designed that program knew there was a boy who left Okinawa in 1932--this is his passport picture--who would get saved at their evangelistic rally 12 years later, go to Bible school; and return to the island taking that Gospel with him?

Tying Up Loose Ends on Sept 29

"We've been here a month already." Kinya and I looked at each other. We could remember thinking we had only a month to pack for the move...but we've been here in Okinawa a month?! Transforming the photo museum into a home has made the 4 weeks zip by.

This post is going to be a hodgepodge of loose ends, because I just want to report things I know you want to know about, and there's no way to keep them connected.

First, I want to say a big thank you for praying God help me keep my head on straight, that I not lose sight of what's important. There've been days I've almost forgotten, and the Father has had to yank me back with a "Where do you think you're going? Haven't you forgotten something? I can't afford to start the day without gazing into God's Face...any more than anyone could start the day running outside without his clothes on! Tomorrow, I'll be working on learning the last verse of Rev. 4--yes--my goal was to do chapters 1-5 this year!

While clearing out my Dad's study, and taking down all the photos around the house, I was able to compose 5 different types of "slide shows" with them to display on the monitor in the study. I did an experimental slide show just to see if it could be done; a short tour of the house BEFORE taking down the pictures; a longer one showing Missions in Okinawa; a detailed one giving Roy Oshiro's history; and a family one for relatives or any who might be interested.

Oh yes--I mentioned my Dad's beautiful Canadian clock had wreaked havoc on my foot when I dropped it last week. But it's doing nicely, see? My Dad, when he was making the photo museum, fell off a ladder and hurt himself--his hand got all black such he phoned us in mainland Japan, and my husband and I flew down and finished the construction work at that time. I just thought about it. Doesn't that mean there are some places Kinya actually dismantled the very things he built years ago?!

My stepmother's sewing//reading/room, we were going to let Keima use, but since it doesn't have AC, it can get uncomfortably warm in the summer, and my son opted for the dining area near the AC, moving the tables and chairs into the main living room area and bringing his mattress and computer desk and equipment in where it gets cooler. The smaller room will be my private workplace to write, draw, translate, read...of course, later in the evening, when it's cooler..

Yesterday, with the bulk of the cleaning out of the way and everyone pretty much set on where they wanted to sleep, I decided to get out my colored pencils and watercolor markers. I haven't done any serious drawing for about 3 months now--please pray it come back to me smoothly. Of course, God may want me to forget all the bad habits I picked up in Iwatsuki and do it right this time!

GUARDIANS AND SISTERS

Oh no! I just deleted the entire post! Let's try again....

I finished cleaning and straightening most of the house and Daddy's study so decided to start opening my boxes from Iwatsuki. Among the things were some old photographs my Dad had sent me decades ago. There were other astounding things, but I had to share these first.

Chinen-san, my favorite house help...my sister Janice, is pretending to wipe dishes with her, but I think the truth is she's just getting the towel dirty on the floor! That's Mommy playing the piano in the house we moved to. Yes, it's the same piano out in the living room now!

Joyce is only a year older than me--this is my favorite picture of my gazing at my big sister--and she was always protective of her little sisters, I think. Joyce, June, and Janice. We had a secret door knock; could sing a pharmacy commercial jingle, as well as a "Busy Rice-Eating Hen" song.

Some Christians think to be dedicated to God, you have to be serving "straight" all the time. Surprise. I don't think there's anything unspiritual about feeling the "fuzzies" every once in a while, and for that matter, I wonder if God Himself doesn't smile at our enjoyment of them when they come! Oh--this is the embroidery work Janice sent me quite a few years ago that I told you about, that made it through the '11 Quake...and has found its way down here to a wall of the house in Okinawa.

WHO TRANSLATED THIS...？

I was straightening my stepmother's bookshelf, when I found a rather thin booklet my mother seemed to keep. What was it?

"C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters" in Japanese? Hm; looks interesting. That's a short piece I could probably read myself. I really like its content--it would be worth trying to read, I thought. It would be much easier than tackling one of those deeper theological translations by Andrew Murray, Tozer, or my Dad's favorite: Martin Lloyd-Jones, among others I wonder who this is translated by, I thought, and looked near the bottom on the cover...

Translator: "Saito Tomoko," it said. That's ME!" As I opened the book, a vague recollection came back to me. I had borrowed the English book from my sister Joyce during a visit down to Okinawa one summer and liked it so much, I wanted badly to share it with my non-English reading friend back in mainland Japan. So I'd made a rough summarization of what the book chapters conveyed and e-mailed those findings to my friend. My sister, reading what I'd written, suggested I share them with my Japanese stepmother.

SO, a trained professional translator, I DO NOT CLAIM TO BE, but this is what I sent her (They will be coming in several installments, at the end of my daily posts.

MOMMY'S NEGATIVES

"Well, aren't you going to write about your mom Kimiko, the one Kiyo 'stepped in for'?"

Well. actually, I already have. I published my Mom's testimony online in 2007, way before I wrote about my grandfather or Dad or stepmother...or even thought about writing about them, because my Mom had such a big part in making me the person I am.

(If you want to hear about how Mommy was born and raised in Hawaii; her encounter with the foreign missionary; her incredible journey across the U.S. continent during the war; the frog dissection prank; and 3 desires; please read "Kimiko's Travel Agent", https://hopeassured.blogspot.com.)

But I guess in this post, I'll mention 3 negatives I remember about Mommy.

Negatives? Yup, negatives.

The first time was when I was 5 years' old and squirming at Mommy's side in her junior high girls' Sunday School class. She'd just asked her girls what was necessary to be saved. They'd answered to know you were a sinner. She nodded but told them that wasn't enough. Another ventured you had to know Jesus died for your sins? She smiled and said that was true but there was more. The class thought for a while, and someone piped up, you had to know you have to receive Him as your Savior!

Did Mommy look like she would cry? The girls seemed to really listen. "Everything you said is good and true. But just knowing those things alone will not save you. Even knowing you need to receive Him will NOT save you. You have to actually do it."

I was only 5. But I knew I had to receive Jesus as my Savior to be saved. It was after that I actually did.

But being part of God's Family didn't mean I was always an angel. Far from it. During my teen years, I was so much trouble--I posted about this earlier, so I'll abbreviate--I'd gotten so depressed once when I was 15, I told Mommy I felt I didn't deserve to belong in the family. That was the second time I remember Mommy's negative, and her answer was what I needed

"Maybe you DON'T," she'd said; "but can any of us ever say we deserve to belong in the Family of God?" That night she taught me the secret of personal joy in God's Love and Grace completely free of all else.

Which is why, several years after that incident, in the backyard while hanging up laundry on the clotheline, I told Mommy I wanted to follow God with all my heart the way she had.

If He called me back out to the mission field, I decided I wanted to follow Him here. This was the third time Mommy spoke to me using a negative. She put down the clothes in the basket and said slowly, "June, if you don't want disappointment, if you don't want heartache, if you don't want to ever shed tears, DON'T become a missionary." But she followed that up with: "But if you want the greatest joys, if you want real satisfaction, if you want to know what it is to say, 'God has worked,' then do become a missionary."

I guess Mommy had been "following up" each negative with a positive:  So receive Christ, don't just know about Him; realize God's Love has nothing to do with being deserving of it

The "Missionary's Mundane Footwork" photo? That's one of my sisters helping canvass the new neighborhood with introductory brochures.

Take Your Time; Hurrying Can Hurt

So God doesn't forget. Even 8 years after Daddy's gone?

"What can I show from his study today?" I wondered. After all, when I came the end of Aug., the construction people had done a wonderful work on the window frame but left the place in a shambles; making it easier to think of it as a forgotten room in the corner, perfect to store unused things! No! I wanted Daddy honored most in this house--his place must NOT be made into a dust bin! (Besides, it's the room Daddy promised me.)

That thick wooden clock on the wall with all the flags of the Canadian provinces is so pretty, I thought, and walked over to look at it. It had stopped moving a long time ago, but it was still relatively clean and bright. Maybe a mere change of battery will have it moving again, I thought, and reached to take it off the wall. But something caught, and when I tugged a little stronger, the certificate above it fell from the wall.

Surprised, I dropped the heavy timepiece...and the edge hit a joint on my left foot toe--YOWWWW! It hit at just the wrong angle. I applied a bag of ice to the area (had a towel wrapped around the bag) to keep the ugly purple and swelling down, but I think I took a little too much time. 6 days later, it's looking like this. 

No hurry June, God seemed to tell me; just take it one step at a time, and if you need to rest a bit, that's ok too.

KIYO'S TURN

I wonder if Kiyo's sister talked to a lot of butterflies, birds, and cats as she lay there?

The following was written about in the Nov. 15, '22 post:  Kiyo's 7-year-old sister had her baby sister strapped onto her back every afternoon and was told to care for her while her mother was out working in the fields.

But one day, she had lost her footing by the side of the dirt road and ended up falling backwards--in other words, right on top of the baby--and couldn't get up no matter how hard she tried. So she lay there for hours, like an upturned turtle, until someone came by. By then the suffocated baby had begun to turn blue.

But God had more plans for this baby.  After a few sharp slaps on the behind by the grandmother, Kiyo's wails told the sister and mother she was going to live after all.

Threats of war filled the skies, and Kiyo was coming home from school one day when someone shouted to run. Maybe there were screams, but there was a much louder drone and razing. Everyone was running, some falling. Kiyo was so overcome with desperation she couldn't look to the side...but she must've seen something, she says, because to this day she is haunted by the sight of a tongue hanging out of a cheek and can't eat sashimi or any kind of raw meat.

Kiyo saw human bodies thrown through the air by the force of exploding bombs, and heard a soldier with his arm raised call out for his mother just before he died. But God had plans for Kiyo, and she made it safely across the open field.

Kiyo survived the war years and excelled in sewing; worked her way to the main island of Okinawa (she had been living on Ishigaki, one of the outer islands of the Ryukyu Island chain of the Prefecture of Okinawa). Her co-worker there, Matayoshi-san, invited her to a nearby church started by strange foreigners from Canada and Hawaii.

These "missionaries"--didn't newspaper headlines say they were involved in a hit-and-run? But when Kiyo got to know Roy and Kimmiko, she not only got the full story, she was also introduced to the Living Savior. And despite her quiet personality, she became the very first young person in the church to go to Bible School to train for and return fully equipped as a church worker!

One of the greatest surprises my Dad had when he began his ministry in Uken was a person who told him, "I've been praying God would send someone to my village to start a church." This person, saved and cured of Hodgkin's Disease in a leprosarium, had returned to her village where there was no other Gospel Witness, and asked God to send help. For 15 years--even in the hot summer months, when old wounds would emit unpleasant odors, Kiyo would hold Bible Studies with this healed-leper-now-sister--and encourage her in things of Christ.

Yes, God had plans for Kiyo and had been protecting her all this time. Kiyo ended up leading her mother to Christ, and altho' her father had forsaken the family and left home decades ago, she ministered to him at his hospital bedside.

But I suppose the biggest thing God saved Kiyo for was for us. When our mother, Kimiko, went to Glory, the one who knew our work inside out, Kiyo, was asked to step in and become the new Mrs. Oshiro (Mommy and Daddy had prayed together about this). and as such, she could now rejoice with us, not only as church member, but as family member as well!

I almost forgot. A few years later, it was this new Mrs. Oshiro who led Seiko Oshiro, my Dad's cousin, to the Lord!

I almost forgotten; God hadn't.

JUST ONE LITTLE GREETING CARD

I've been going through everything in Daddy's study, throwing out tons of things, trying to attain a semblance of order while salvaging the true image of the real person. Perhaps the biggest headache has been the correspondence. I dare not toss out important things, altho' it is easier to throw out bank balances or sales fliers.

I noticed one greeting card Daddy saved: he had written in pencil, on the outside, "Send to June". That card was dated 2012 from "Aunty Lois" (Russel and Lois Waala were fellow missionaries with my parents, and my sisters and I grew up knowing them as uncle and aunt)

Daddy wanted to send the card to me? Why? Part of the message inside included: "tell June we are so happy about her new apartment close to church also. That is wonderful. She needs a break." Our family had fled Fukushima after the '11 Quake then were evicted from our house due to construction of a new road.

The church moved. and God used the city then to finance our move and new dwelling close to them, the card reminded me. All sorts of warm feelings for Aunt Lois came back to me too.

"And there's plenty more to come," God seemed to say. "If I can show you all this through one little greeting card, just imagine what I have in store for you June.

Just trust Me to lead you one step at a time."

DADDY'S STORY

When Daddy and the rest of the family returned to Canada, the family's B.C. Wood and Coal did well, and the boys seemed to fit in smoothly with their new lives.

This is a photo of my Dad when he was young--one of my favorites. My sister used to say, "See? Even Asians can have swag!" My Dad said his brother was the tougher one (the one walking with him), could whip anyone in a fight, but...on with my story.

Despite his adolescent-delinquent appearance, Roy was a serious student (really!), at school the student body president. He'd wanted to become a schoolteacher. He hoped to help younger folk become good Canadian citizens, but was counseled against this, since the public sentiment at that time, due to political tensions in the air, was anti-Japanese, and no Japanese would be given teaching jobs.

Roy started his freshman year at the University of British Columbia, deciding to train to be a teacher anyway. But the Pearl Harbor attack interrupted his studies, Altho' he had been involved in military exercises (all male students were), students of Japanese descent were asked to turn in their uniforms at that time.

After being allowed to take the first exam, Roy found himself herded on board trains for the mass movement of Japanese 100 miles east of the Rockies. The B.C. Wood and Coal was sold out from under them.

Roy's father had been given the choices: 1.Internment Camp along the coast. 

2. Sugar Beet plantation camp in central Canada, in cramped quarters, with the family. 3. Go clear across the continent and live in eastern Canada. He took the 2nd choice, since the other two had no guarantee of keeping the family together.

But there, His mother took in some boys who had been torn from their families, at least until they found places to go. Roy worked hard, and apparently, pretty wordlessly, until...

Notice came that the government was setting up a WAR EMERGENCY TEACHER'S PLAN. Because of the war, there was a dearth of male teachers. The government gave free courses in Calgary for men willing to be trained as teachers. Roy jumped at the opportunity to leave the sugar beets and teach--something he'd been told "they'd never let him do!

But when he got there, he realized NO JAPANESE WERE ALLOWED TO RESIDE WITHIN CITY LIMITS.

So Roy canvassed (4 hours!) the suburb just outside the city limits and found a widow who took him in as a boarder.

After commuting by streetcar and earning his teaching certificate, Roy first taught in a one-room Hutterite colony school then moved on to Coaldale High to become ...well, this will have to be translated: "The first Japanese male in Canada to teach in public high school". It was a big deal.

What their son had done was no small accomplishment. Kamasuke and Masako were so proud of him.

There were a handful of Christian students in Mr. Oshiro's classes who prayed for his salvation. By watching the consistent life of a fellow teacher, a born-again Christian, Roy ended up attending an evangelistic meeting and finding Christ!

It was there, on his knees, Roy thought, "Someone has to tell my relatives in Okinawa about this! If I don't go, who will?"

But when Roy tried to tell his parents he wanted to go back to his relatives in Okinawa, they clearly opposed. The largehearted mother who had taken in boys whose heart Roy had seen in that widow woman who took him in in Calgary...the father who had taught him to plant a beautiful flower in a year, a useful tree in a decade, a lasting character in a lifetime...he couldn't turn his back on them, could he?

After much prayer, God told him to wait a year. Parental opposition softened; after which time, Roy went onto Bible training at Millar Memorial Bible Institute, then he went to Japan.

*   *   *

It was when Daddy was 50 years old and Grampa and Grandma were visiting Okinawa, Grampa was in a good mood and said to everybody, "I have an interesting story to tell you about when my son here was born. A missionary happened to be in the hospital home from Japan, and he prayed..."

BIRDS FOR NOW IN OKINAWA

My son may've thought I was crazy when I dashed outside with my camera in the middle of the night. Had I heard the song of a nightingale?  Well, not exactly.

It was the blue rock thrush I heard calling. The thrush, in mainland Japan, is a dull brown, but here in Okinawa, it's blue with copper-colored undersides...that is, that's what I was expecting when I jumped out to see the bird. But in the light of the street lamp, its blue shading looked barely gray around the shoulder...looked mostly brown, actually...what a disappointment.

 I've seen the same type of bird on the exact same wall in the daytime sunlight, and...see what the color looks like? This is a photograph taken in Jan., in the daylight.

I remember there were waterfowl, heron, some carp, butterflies and dragonflies, in that river that runs in front of the house. There were lots of flora and other wildlife there too. If only temperatures would come down so I could go out to see them! (But maybe there's still more work God wants me to spend time doing at the house, and He knows if it gets too nice out, I'll lose my head and stay out too long....)

I just wrote my Buddhist friend in Iwarsuki, a bird lover, to whom I'd been looking forward sending pictures of the Okinawan Kawasemi (I know there are some.) But I sent her these instead, saying they were the best I could do for now--they were framed pictures of the bird, hanging in my stepmother's old study. 

How'd it go..."Two birds in a frame are worth one in the bush...or something like that?"

God Meant to Draw Us Closer

I had to add this. I didn't realize what God was doing (like I ever do.)

When our family moved down and needed to transform the photo museum into our home, at first, taking down all those pictures and moving in seemed like a negative thing, like I had to choose between the pictures or my family. But I look back and know now God never meant it that way. He wasn't asking me to take one or the other.

Taking down those pictures meant working together with my husband and son. Sometimes it involved moving furniture around to make the best living space, other times it was getting a chair to reach a frame or hook in the wall. We were talking to each other, asking questions, making decisions, passing things back and forth...for hours, every day. While we were in Iwatsuki, we hardly ever did that.

And when I made the meal with the goya (bitter cucumber), altho' my son wouldn't touch the vegetable that looked like dark green catepillar (I called it that; not him!), it was fun joking with him about how sorry I felt for him so left him a little in the pan in case he wanted to try it later...we rarely joshed like that up in Iwatsuki either (come to think of it, the family never ate at the same time).

Because of my medical condition), Kinya has run errands for me outside whenever necessary, and both Saito males are computer savvy so have given expert advice for my "Mini Museum" ideas. In fact, just yesterday, my son was jumping back and forth between laptop, explanation manual, and "Museum Display" to figure out why some slides I'd entered weren't coming out in correct sequence.