Parents and Children
January 2009
Banner photo: © Frans Lemmens/Getty Images
A Woman of Few Words
Daisaku Ikeda and his mother in 1970
[© Seikyo Shimbun]
Ours was a big family; I had four older and two younger brothers and a younger sister. There were also two adopted children, making a total of 12 of us in the family. My father was an old-fashioned man, so much so that he was nicknamed "Mr. Stubborn." My mother looked after him and patiently took care of the 10 children. She was a person of great perseverance; I never heard her complain about anything.
Even when the family business of processing edible seaweed was in jeopardy and when our house burned down during World War II, she uttered not a word of complaint; she simply went on taking care of the children and doing her household chores.
I remember one time when we were sharing a watermelon. It was cut up according to the number of us there. One of the children, who had finished his portion, said to my mother: "Since you don't like watermelon, I'll have your share." To which my mother replied: "Oh, I've suddenly come to like watermelon," and set aside a slice for one child who happened to be absent. It is strange how even now I remember her voice and expression so clearly; I think this is because my young heart was deeply touched by her love and sense of fairness. Based on this sense of fairness we were treated equally, and we were also taught never to do or say anything that would hurt others.
With so many children and so many healthy appetites, my mother paid a lot of attention to what she fed us. She could not spend a lot of money but always made sure we got enough calories. Despite the privation of the war, none of us suffered from malnutrition. I think she must have put out twice as much effort for me because I was rather weak and sickly.
At that time we had only one chicken. The eggs that the hen laid would be distributed according to our ages, starting with the oldest child; with all these children it would be quite a few days until the youngest in the family got his. He always looked forward to this day, thinking it would never come.
One day, the child whose turn it was went out to the henhouse to get his egg; there he found not one but four eggs. He came back elated, saying, "The hen laid four eggs today!" All of the children clapped their hands gleefully at this unexpected windfall. Actually, my mother had woken up early, gone out and bought the extra eggs and laid them under the hen. At breakfast, she sat there without saying a word; she was clearly happy to see the joyful expressions on her children's faces. My memory of my mother is that she was a woman of few words who nonetheless managed to express her great affection for us.
I am very proud of this woman who was able to share her love with all of her 10 children equally. I can still feel her compassion-filled voice reverberating within me. It encourages me to do the right thing; it helps me determine what is right or wrong. The words that I recall are not extraordinary. "Do not do anything that causes others trouble" and "Don't tell lies" were basically all that she said. When we began school, she would add, "Once you decide to do something, take responsibility for it and carry it out yourself." Her words were engraved in my heart in those early days and I have never forgotten them.
Daisaku Ikeda is the president of the Soka Gakkai International.
