Chapter 9 A Merry December

12/2/98 Wednesday – I’m working on a new project that has to do with one of my hobbies: fixing my hair. I’ve come up with around 30 hairdos to be done on my own long brown hair by myself. A number of months ago, I had drawn some of these hairdos on small pieces of paper. 

This week, I thought about how nice it would be to give girls’ names to my hairdos, to catalog and keep track of them that way. Some of the names I chose are after storybook characters with whom I associate the hairstyles, like Mandie (French braid) or Anne (two braids). With most of the hairstyles, I chose whatever name popped into my mind that seemed to suit the hairdo.

This day, Papa, Mama, and I were walking down the road to a restaurant, which we didn’t like that much. We hadn’t been to eat there since last year when it opened.

As we walked, I swung my high pony-tail with its scrunchie back and forth and said, “Guess what hairdo this is! It starts with a D.”

“D . . . Let’s see. Danielle!” Mama guessed.

“No.”

“Dolores. Donna?”

I shook my head. “Shall I tell you? It’s Daisy!”

Later, I had finished up my ketchup spaghetti at the restaurant, and Papa & Mama were still eating. To pass the time, I began converting the Daisy hairstyle into the Hannah hairstyle by herringbone-braiding my pony-tail.

Hair braiding is, for me, an absorbing hobby. I’m going to draw all my hairdos in a little notebook, in alphabetical order according to their names.

This afternoon, we set about our Christmas decorating. First we had to get the tree, ornaments, nativity scenes, etc. out of our attic. The attic is a small space above the closet of the front room. The procedure for extracting boxes goes like this: First, Papa places a step-ladder below the hole in the ceiling. Next, I step up to the top step of the ladder. Then I sit on Papa’s shoulders. Papa climbs up the step ladder, and I scramble into the attic. Then Papa climbs down and removes the ladder. I hand boxes to Papa through the hole. Finally, I get out of the attic by the reverse of the way I got up there.

Then Mama and I put the tree together by sorting the branches by the colors on the tips of the wires, and inserting them around the tree trunk. We decided on using only handmade ornaments this year. We left out our singing angel lights and substituted starry garland as well as colored lights. The nice thing about having a fake Christmas tree is that if an ornament doesn’t hang just so, I can bend the branch it’s hanging from.

12/8/98 Tuesday – On this day, we drove to the church at Koriyama (Tajimas’ church). Mama spoke at the ladies’ meeting. Papa and I sat in an upstairs room and worked. Papa worked with his laptop computer, and I worked from my schoolbooks. I finished up History and Chemistry in short order, and moved on to Literature.

I’m using a secular Literature book, instead of the usual Bob Jones University Press books. I like the set-up better than the BJU books, because the questions and applications are written to the student, and not for a teacher to teach. This day, I read some very good poems by Anne Bradstreet and by Edward Taylor.

Before getting on the road toward home, we stopped off at Baskin Robbins for a special treat. In Japan is called “Sa~tiwan,” because of the “thirty-one” ice cream flavors. When Mary & I went to Baskin Robbins in Machida, I got a double-dip cone of raspberry and caramel ribbon. This time I chose grape sherbet and rocky road. Delicious!

This evening, Mama and I met at church with Mrs. Takenaka and two church ladies for singing practice. Mama and the other ladies sang soprano. Since Manami-chan couldn’t come, I had to sing alto all by myself. It would have been too difficult to sight-read the notes, but I had sung the soprano part and heard the alto two Christmases ago. So I got along better than I would have expected.

I don’t believe I mentioned before that Manami-chan and Mr. Ogawara are getting married next month. Anyway, this evening, Manami-chan was busy at home, writing wedding invitations. Papa had told Mama and me the word for "invitation," but when we tried to explain to the others, I remembered only that the word ended with jo, and Mama remembered that it started with sho. They soon figured out that we were trying to say, “sho~taijo.” Then the light dawned on me. 

“Oh, is that what that means?” Standing up, I recited, “Sassoku go sho~taijo wo okurimasho~!” My face turned pink, because now Mrs. Takenaka knew the truth: I didn’t actually understand all of the lines which I repeated so perfectly in her operettas!

12/12/98 Saturday – This was the day of my piano recital! Oh, dear, I can’t believe I actually played that long and immensely difficult Sakura by memory, and in front of people, and without making any drastic mistakes, either!

The recital began with Hikaru-kun (age 5), Mrs. Takenaka’s little boy. A lot of the attendees were excited about his debut. He played his two short pieces quite correctly – to the relief of his mother, I’d say.

Then followed a long time of trying to enjoy the music of the younger students. It was hard – not because their playing was bad, but because I had the thought of my own performance looming before me. It’s paradoxical that I would be so nervous about playing the piano, when I feel little more than excitement about my singing or acting. I suppose it’s because my talents are in the realm of language, and not music.

I sat offstage during the three songs prior to my own. Watching the two teachers as they sat at a lighted table, I could tell which of them had taught each student who was performing by the bobbing of her head in time to the music.

Meanwhile, as I glanced to the left, I noticed the boy whose turn came next tapping his fingers as though to drill the memory of his piece into his knee. On my other side sat Wakana-chan, likewise tapping her knees. The idea of thinking of one line of music while listening to another made me feel giddy! 

I turned my head toward the ceiling. I reassured myself that my own piece would turn out fine. Papa had prayed about it. I had prayed about it. Even Mr. Ogawara had prayed about it in prayer meeting this week. Wasn’t my music for God’s glory, after all?

Finally, as the last person before me sat on the piano bench playing a lovely tune, I closed my eyes and let myself sway with the music. That was a smart move, for it helped me to flow into the movements of the cherry blossoms portrayed in Sakura. 

I won’t say it sounded spectacular, but I was greatly pleased as I took my bow and as dear Mrs. Sugawara, smiling and generous as always, handed me a bouquet. I was so relieved. For hadn’t I messed up on the easiest part during the morning rehearsal? Now that the show was over, I never wanted to play that stupid song again. And it did seem unfair that I had to play so near the end of the program, being one of the eldest students. Now only three songs were left for me to enjoy thoroughly.

I had to laugh with the rest of the audience as Mrs. Takenaka’s voice was heard announcing, “Please listen quietly during the performances. Particularly, Hikaru Takenaka must be quiet and listen.

12/13/98 Sunday – This morning, Mama was sick, so I was handed the responsibility of teaching the 25-minute English class before Sunday school. I had no problem with filling in on short notice. I did mind the cold, though. The kerosene heater was on, but I could see my breath as I sang, “Baby Jesus, in a manger, I love you!”

Sunday school this day consisted mainly of rehearsing our Christmas play. The play is short this year, which is good, because not many people have their lines down pat yet. The kids got silly about their costumes, declaring that they were “weird clothes.” I’m Mary this year, and Akemi (age 13) is a shepherd, we two being the ones with the longest lines. I’m surprised that someone like me – the only daughter of a missionary – would wait 15 years before playing Mary in a Christmas play.

So Sunday school ended, and I got busy distributing hymnals in the pews. I decided to sit on the left-hand side of the church this day, for a change. My problems with the cold were over, for the left-hand side is also the southern side, and sunlight streamed over me.

When Papa put our memory verse on the overhead projector, I projected some light, too. I got a little distracted with turning my wrist and watching an oval light dance on the front wall. Watches are good for more than telling time.

Papa has come up with some bizarre illustrations while teaching the English Bible Survey. For instance, this afternoon, he gave a lesson on Revelation. “Revelation is a hard word that we don’t use very often. It come from the word reveal,” said Papa. Pointing to his middle, he continued, “Now, I have a tie pin under my vest, but you can’t see it. It’s hidden. So I’m going to REVEAL my tie pin to you.” So saying, he unbuttoned his vest. “There it is. That was the REVELATION of my tie pin.”

After the English service, Mari-san brought her new pet to the church and introduced him to Azumi (age 17). Boy is a handsome black puppy. Papa got out some dog biscuits and, saying, “Are you a good boy?” gave one to Boy. Then, turning to Azumi’s dog Cello, he asked, “Are you a good girl?” and gave her a biscuit. He had one biscuit left in his hand and, holding it out to Azumi, inquired, “Are you a good girl?”

“What? Can I eat it?” Azumi gasped. 

Mari-san and I started laughing. We are used to Papa’s jokes.

12/14/98 Monday – This morning, Papa & Mama left for a prayer meeting at Koriyama. I stayed home and wrapped presents and wrote cards. My goal is to send Christmas cards not only to my American friends, but also to the Japanese girls who used to be in Pikkoro Drama Club or Sunday school. I’m inviting them to come to the Christmas programs at church. The girls my age have dropped out because of their studies. I’m concerned for their spiritual state.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Miss Wendy had come to bake cookies. (Our oven is bigger than hers.) Andrew was with her part of the time, when he wasn’t at his violin lesson. At one point, I was just prying Hickory Hamster out of his cage for Andrew to pet, when the doorbell rang. Answering it, I saw a man in a greenish-gray uniform who began to explain his mission. He handed me a flyer with sewing machines drawn on it.

“We have one,” I told him, thinking he was a salesman. I found that assumption wrong, as he immediately asked for an appointment tomorrow to clean the machine.

Glancing at the flyer again, I noticed the word that means, "free of charge." So I assented and told him our phone number. Then he wanted to come in and see the machine! I was reluctant, because the middle room was really messy. It was too late to say no, though, and with a “Sorry to intrude,” the man stepped up from the genkan (entryway), leaving his shoes behind.

He started to examine the sewing machine. Uninterested, I looked away, and saw Miss Wendy smiling at me from the table piled with cookie trays. 

Just then, Andrew struck up on his violin. Suddenly, the whole situation seemed ridiculous, and I nearly giggled out loud. Here were these three people in my house, engaged in diverse activities, while my own parents were in another city! 

12/19/98 Saturday – At noon, Mari-san picked me up, and we went to the elementary school to pass out tracts. These were tracts with a comic strip of the real Christmas story in bright colors, and inside an invitation to our kids’ party next week. As I gave each child a tract, I varied my speech from “Please come to the Christmas party,” to “Merry Christmas,” to “This is the Christmas story.”

I saw four girls whom I knew from Pikkoro, and somebody else recognized me from Jack and the Beanstalk. A group of girls wondered if I spoke English, and I obligingly cried, “Hello! How are you?”

Some of the boys walked off loudly reading the invitations, and then conferred about whether they would go or not.

“I’m definitely going.”       

“I can’t go.”

“I want to go.”

Not all of the kids were receptive. On our walk back, Mari-san and I sadly picked up from the ground torn pieces of our tracts. I was reminded of a Bible verse: “Lo, they have rejected the word of the Lord; and what wisdom is in them?” (Jeremiah 8:9b).

This afternoon, Papa, Mama, and I went to our church to host a Christmas party at which everyone must speak English. The party is mainly for Mama’s English students, grown women who meet with her every Saturday. I was pleased to welcome also: Kanako (age 16), Akemi (age 13), and her brother Mitsuhiro (age 12). The party proved to be more fun for me with people close to my own age. 

Our traditional Christmas games included: Have You Ever, Magic Mind Reading, and Ain’t That a Shame – which Mama had to change for grammar’s sake to: ISN'T That a Shame. Besides the games, we sang a few carols, listened to a devotional, and ate, ate, ate. Yep, it was a good party.

12/21/98 Monday – This evening, April Rich arrived in Iwaki. She is a grown-up missionary kid, and she’s also a new missionary. (I wonder if someday I’ll be a missionary here like her.) April came to give a Christmas concert at our church.

Before the concert, Mama and I took April and Mari-san to eat at Mexico Gallery. They were impressed with the restaurant’s quality. We spoke in Japanese, which was no problem for April. She told a great story about how a Japanese girl got saved. I understood a lot of it, but had to ask her to repeat the story in English, which she kindly did. (That’s one of the disadvantages of being bilingual – serving as interpreter.)

After our meal, we went to the church to warm up our voices. I joined with five other ladies to sing portions of the cantata we’d been practicing. The rest of the concert was made up of April’s singing, playing the piano, and giving her testimony. 

I generally enjoy Christmas concerts better than any of our other Christmas festivities. The reason is that for the most part, I can sit back, relax, and let someone else do the work. It’s much easier for me to meditate on the meaning of Christmas in that atmosphere.

I enjoyed singing the full cantata yesterday, and I got over my fear of singing alto. Mr. Ogawara accompanied us on the piano, and Mr. Takenaka read Scripture in between the songs.
Let me get back to this evening’s concert. When the singing had ended, we served refreshments upstairs. I busied myself with talking to Wakana (age 14), Maiko (age 14), and Ayana (age 15). These are the girls who used to be in Mari-san’s Sunday school class with me.

I was so pleased when I saw them come in. My Christmas card writing – and praying – paid off! Mari-san was eager to show them her new dog Boy. Wakana-chan looked so funny when Mari-san dumped Boy into her arms. 

“I don’t know how to hold him!” she protested.

But Boy licked her face, in spite of it.

©2021 Rose Enterline Williams

 

Rose Enterline Williams lives in Florida with her husband James and their three children. Rose's interests include nature walks, reading, handcrafts, and keeping friendships alive.