Morning Sounds

Under new construction

When dawn engulfed Honshu, Midori opened her eyes; turned her head and smiled when she remembered what day it was, August 6th, her birthday. She sat up, brushed her jet black bangs from her eyes, lingered for awhile on her straw mat, and listened to the morning sounds. She heard her father’s iron tea pot rattle. The familiar sound and scent drifting from the family's daidokoro caused her to smile. She smiled again when her brother, Kinji, pushed a shoji screen aside and poked his head in.

“Father made rice cakes,” the beaming five year old said. “Hurry, Midori…Father promised we would go to the temple today.” Kinji darted away as quickly as he had appeared.

Midori knew about the promise. Her father had told her weeks ago they would visit the Shinto Temple on her birthday. Still sitting on her mat, she looked at the new silk kimono her mother had carefully placed on a woven basket, the last stitches finished the night before. Draped across the kimono, there was a new obi, also made by her mother. One end of the sash touched the floor, partially hiding a new pair of geta sandals, a gift from her father.

The morning sunlight poured through Midori’s window as she held the kimono’s soft fabric against her cheeks. The patterns of shadows and light dancing on the room's walls, the morning sounds, and the excitement she felt, filled her heart with joy. For a moment, Midori stood in the middle of her small room and thought about how happy she was, how lucky she was to have loving parents, how wonderful it was to be seven years old.

Kinji skipped ahead as the family approached the temple. “Wait for us,” his father called. “This is a quiet place and we must be respectful, Kinji.”

“Can I burn incense, Father?” Kinji asked. “Can I?”

They all laughed when his father said, “Only if you promise not to burn down the temple.”

“The temple is beautiful, Father,” Midori said, as she leaned over to remove her new sandals.

“Yes, it is, Midori, and the most sacred place in Hiroshima.”

The family of four: Makoto, the father; Haru, the mother; Kinji, the little bother, and Midori, the happy seven year old entered the Shinto Temple, unaware that a B29 bomber was flying over the city.

At 8:15, in the morning, Midori, wearing her new kimono, was praying and burning incense in a Shinto Temple. At the same moment, bombardier Major Thomas Ferebee, aboard the superfortress, Enola Gay, released a bomb.

“Bombs away,” Ferebee declared. Fifty-seven seconds later; the Shinto Temple was gone. The city was destroyed.

The plane's pilot,Colonel Paul Tibbets, banked the B29 hard to the right, leaving the skies over Hiroshima.

“Mission completed,” he said.