I Have Never Felt That The Scars On My Mother Are Ugly

On the morning of August 9, I was looking after my baby brother. The air raid warning was over as I brought the baby to my mother to suckle him. Mother was working in the field. I was worried that the air raid siren would sound again while Mother was nursing the baby.

The baby drank his fill, and I brought him home. I was so anxious about the air raids that I couldn't do anything at home. I didn't feel like studying or looking after the baby I was not in a mood to play, either.

Then I took the baby in my arms and sat on the veranda facing the field where Mother was working. — Just then, a light bright enough to pierce my eyes flashed in the sky.

I lay my face down on the ground holding my baby brother. I was beside myself. Something like dust closed in around me. I breathed with difficulty and at last I couldn't breathe.

When I recovered consciousness my brother wasn't with me. I tried desperately for him, but I couldn't move my body. I struggled with all my might, but in vain. It was dark as midnight around me. "God, please help me," I prayed again and again.

When I opened my eyes, I saw something white before me. It was long and narrow. It was like a cloud. I watched it very carefully. I wondered what it was for a while. Then I realized it was the sunlight coming through the crevices in the broken timbers of the house. I was caught under my house.

This time I tried frantically to move my body. I made desperate efforts to creep out from under the pillars. Finally I got my hands and legs out from under a wide board and I could move my body easily. I tried and tried to get out of the dark place toward the sunlight coming through the crevices. I crawled out! My elder sister crawled out, too. Together we looked for my brother, and we finally found him where he had been blown by the bomb wind.

Though I thought only my house had been bombed, I was wrong. All the houses that I saw were broken to pieces. I wondered where on the earth such a strong bomb had been dropped. I was afraid so much that I ran to the air raid shelter in a hill taking my brother. In the shelter there were two people who were seriously burnt.

To my surprise, they were my mother and my younger brother. I could not believe they had gotten burnt the field. I threw myself into Mother's arms and said to her, "It's okay, Mother. Please it's okay!" In my heart I was afraid that Mother would die soon. I prayed earnestly to God.

Mother said to my seriously injured brother beside her, "Pray to God. Pray that He will lead you to Mary in Heaven."

My brother said, "Hail Mary..." He gasped out. I felt awful to hear my brother's prayer. The brother with whom I played this morning was about to die. My heart was choked with sorrow. My mother was also praying with her whole heart for him.

Father came to the shelter in the evening. I had waited for him for a long time. When I looked at my father, I felt relieved. He was not wounded at all.

My brother who had prayed all the time became silent after dark. He stopped praying. I touched him on the chest, and I found he had died. He still comes to my mind now and then. I cannot forget him.

Fortunately my mother, whom I had given up for lost, recovered. She works hard in the field every day even though she is disabled with scars. Thanks to Mother, I can go to school. I have never felt that the scars on my mother are ugly.

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