Hello! Ladies and Gentlemen, please have a good time in our
"ORIGAMI-ser.com"
Today, I would tell you
my shy story that I could never forget until my death. Listen to my sad story happened in
my junior high school days.
My father who had mysterious parts in his life, anyway has been dead about 5years ago, at juste after his
91years old day.
He was
a craftsman of bone china, not an
artist, has worked only to make chinas, even in the field, he would be proud of drawing
"Gold line" on bone china.
And also, almost of
kindred of mothers, even a part of some persons are keeping their job still now
chraftsmen for bone china in some places in Japan.
I haven't liked this job from a childhood, especially compared with an artist,craftsman for bone china, I thought a work of craftsman was not valuable, and their
environment looked inferior to child,me.
Certainly, it has occured a kind of accident at the two grade of my junior high school.
That day, I forgot maybe lunch box to my school, at that time, my mother went into a hospital to recover her sickness, around her heart.
Anyway, I was called to go to the acceptance of gateway, a
visitor has come.
That was
my father, he has brought my
lunch box with his old
bicycle not a bus, even he dressed only rough wear not a suit with a tie.
I suddeenly felt a kind of
"shame""shy", because of my school was private school, and I was a little popularity boy.
I was given a lunch box, but with silence.
"Who is he?
Your father?" asked my friends.
But I could not answer any kind of honest word, "No, he is
strange, he is a man of neighborhood."
Father with any comment, he kept smile and go home, with that old bicycle.
My proud "SHOKUNIN", our Japanese "craftsman" were like these persons just as
my proud father.
Mnanager:
NAKAMARO NIJO.