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289 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1992
This was the very first time I had seen a statue of the Blessed Mother. Drawn, I know not why, to enter that church, I gazed on the statue, sensing the presence of a very attractive force that I could not explain. I had always experienced a vague but strong yearning for the Pure. It was not something I could describe in words but it was definitely with me from childhood. ...That encounter led to investigating Catholicism and conversion, which made her a definite oddity in post-war Japan.
She stood there for some time, both repelled and attracted by this ugly place that was home for one hundred people. The dingy huts were built from odds and ends, the bare earth was a festering mess of mud, puddles and rubbish. Some roughly dressed men and women had emptied a big cart full of rubbish collected from city bins and were now sorting it, indifferent to her presence. Suddenly she found herself doing something so typically Japanese. She lifted her eyes from the squalor, focusing them on the serenely flowing Sumida, and then on across the river to Mukojima, where cherry trees flung up bare limbs in silent prayer for spring to come quickly. Silhouettes of rooftops and chimneys stood out sharply against the opaque winter sky. "It was like a Sesshu sumie painting," she writes. "I was moved by the beauty of the setting.This is a rich story on many levels. I especially appreciated the way gruff, rough anti-religious Mitsui was just as influential in Satoko's spiritual growth as she was on his. That was a surprise but one that was only possible because Satoko was so open to following God in every way she could.