After walking for over six hours, the typhoon had finally subsided. I was very hungry and wanted to enter a small restaurant, but decided to do so after drying myself off. I opened my zudabukuro to take out a change of clothes, but all the contents in the bag were soaked because of the rain. I took out each piece of clothing that I had and left them out to dry. I also proceeded to unzip a small compartment in my zudabukuro, which I knew contained my wallet. However, to my disbelief, my wallet was gone. Thinking back, I am glad that I noticed my wallet was missing before entering the restaurant and eating my meal. Yet at the time, I was so shocked that I could barely stand.
With each passing moment, I felt my hunger grow as I frantically tried to figure out how to return to my parents’ house in Tokyo. After some thinking, I calmly reasoned that since (1) I was a minister and (2) I was in a small town, the best way of surviving would be to do takuhatsu (stopping and praying in front of each house and, if possible, receiving a donation in return). Having never done takuhatsu before, I was unsure about the exact steps, but decided that I would do my best and focus on praying for the peace and prosperity of all members of each household. I stopped by the first house and prayed, simultaneously beating my hand-held taiko. When I finished my prayer, I realized that someone from the house had stepped outside holding an ohineri (wrapped offering of money, often coins). Knowing that I was not allowed to receive the donation with my bare hands, I presented the backside of my taiko where the person placed the ohineri. I cannot forget the feeling I had when I received my first ohineri. I recall stopping by around 20-30 houses in this small town. Most of the individuals who were home at the time I stopped by to do the takuhatsu waited for me with the ohineri in their hand. There were varying amounts in the ohineri, ranging from a couple cents to a few dollars. I was very grateful to have received more than enough donations to buy some food. With that being said, I had reached the outskirts of the town and realized that it would take too much time to walk back to the restaurant that I had initially planned on stopping by. I instead decided to eat at the next town over.
Unfortunately, I soon realized that there was a problem with my plan, as it seemed that there was no town nearby. I continued walking only to find that I was approaching the mountains and what seemed like no sign of human existence. Hungry and thirsty, I contemplated drinking the muddy water that had accumulated due to the typhoon. Even the weeds started looking appetizing and like a potential food source. However, I told myself that I would not become like the individuals in the world of hungry spirits and used every bit of energy I had left to force myself to continue walking.
After walking a bit further, I finally came across a farmer who had stopped by his farm to check on his field after the typhoon. I was elated to see him and decided to approach him. I was so thirsty that I asked him for some water and he instead invited me to come along with him to his friend’s house nearby. I followed him there only to realize that the house was empty. The farmer offered to take me to his own house where his wife was waiting for his return. I had initially requested for only some water, but upon reaching his house, the farmer’s wife greeted me warmly and asked me if l was hungry. The happiness and gratefulness I felt at that very moment when she offered me food is unexplainable. I believed that the Buddha and deities had transformed into this couple to help me. To this day, during my morning prayers, I remember to pray for all those individuals who had helped me during my pilgrimage. However, I must admit that the farmer and his wife are the individuals that first come to mind. I do not know their name or where they live or used to live. However, their kindness is one that I will never forget.
After receiving the food, I tried to leave them some money, but they refused and insisted that the food was their form of donation to me. I thanked the farmer and his wife and proceeded to leave their house, only to realize that I did not know how to find my way to my next expected stop, Lake Motosuko. I asked the farmer who told me that his son, who was maybe in elementary school at the time, knew of a shortcut and would be able to lead the way. I once again thanked the couple and followed the child, knowing t hat my shugyou would continue.
To be continued …
Ven. Kenjo Igarashi
September 2018