The Woodcutter and the King (2019)

 

            Long ago, in the mountainous forests of Japan, there lived an old woodcutter by the name of Kenshin.

            One day, as he was bringing lumber into town, he noticed a great commotion in the town square. As he was setting up his wares, the head priest rushed up to him exclaiming, “The new king is coming!  He is going to choose someone to live in his palace.  We need to make the great hall bigger and more beautiful than all the other neighboring temples.  The king must see how much we adore him so that he will choose one of us to live in his palace!”  The priest ordered many cartloads of wood and then shook his head.  “You poor man.  You will be working so hard, when will you be able to prepare for the King?  I shall put in a good word for you though.”

            Kenshin looked thoughtful and said quietly, “I’m working on it.”

 

            He returned to his shop and collected the scraps of wood that he had saved to make paper, as was his routine.  A young courtesan rushed in, seemingly desperate and out of breath.  “Paper! I need paper!  The new king is coming and I must have flyers all around the town proclaiming my love for the king!  When he sees all of my posters, he will certainly choose me to live in the palace!”

            Kenshin nodded and filled her order as she fidgeted and looked around at his small shop. “You poor man,” she said.  “This place is so run down.  You know, a little paint here and there, you might get noticed.” She smiled pityingly as he handed her purchases to her.

            Kenshin looked thoughtful and said, “I’m working on it.”

 

            The day of the new king’s arrival came and as he rode into town, he noticed all the posters plastered on the walls of the town.  When he got to the temple, he saw how huge the great hall was and he heard the people murmuring how big and beautiful the Hall was and how the priest had spent a fortune on the building.  All the town’s officials lavished the King with expensive gifts and foods from the most exclusive stores.  The merchants regarded the array of goods and looked pleased with themselves.

            The King nodded and smiled, but to the people’s surprise, left the town without choosing a single soul.

 

            On the way back to his palace, the King came upon the woodcutter clearing the underbrush from the forest floor.  Kenshin stopped his work and bowed respectfully.

            “I did not see you at the temple,” smiled the King.

            Kenshin replied, “I choose to worship here, my king, caring for your forests, your lands, and your people.”

            “You are an honorable man,” said the King.  “I can see your compassion in the way that you live.”

            “Thank you, your Highness.  If it pleases you, I do have a gift that I can offer you.”  With that, Kenshin offered the King a paper crane.

            “Ah! A gift from the heart, and a gift from your hands.  It is a special gift indeed.” He smiled and addressed the woodcutter, “Kenshin, blessings upon you, my humble servant.  There is a place for you in my palace, if you are ready.”

            Kenshin looked thoughtful and said quietly, “I’m working on it.”

 

=

Matthew 5:5

Colossians 3:23

The Red Crowned Cranes of Hokkaido (2018)

 

Last Night I dreamt of the Red Crowned Cranes of Hokkaido.

I saw them dancing in the mist, their necks curved and wings arched gracefully.

One of them noticed me and glided to where I stood.  “Come dance with me,” she said.  And I did, losing myself in the mysterious music of the moment.

She enveloped me in her wings.  “Come fly with me,” she said.  And I did, my soul soaring into the sky.  All the imperfections of the universe were covered by the soft blanket of snow.

Her voice sang in my heart.  “Come dream with me,” she said.  And I did.  We dreamt of Peace.  We dreamt of Joy.  We dreamt of Love.

She turned a sad eye to me and said, “Will I remember you?  Will I remember this?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but I will remember for the both of us.”

 

Dance.  Fly.  Dream.

The Gift of Five Cranes (2016)

 

            When I was at the coffee shop, I saw a guy folding paper cranes.  I asked him about them, and he began to tell me this story…

 

Many years ago in the mountainous forests of Japan, there lived a young man.  He had no fortune, no ambition, and did not know what he would do with his life.

            One day while walking through the forest, he came upon a grove of trees in which stood a huge, magnificent tree in its center.  He thought to himself, “I shall cut down this tree and sell all the wood.  Think of all the gold I will get!”

            All at once, the wind began to sigh and he heard the voices of the kodama calling out to him.  Suddenly a wizened old man appeared and began to speak.  “I am the guardian of this forest.  Please spare this tree and instead of gold, I will gift you with riches beyond measure.”

            Riches beyond measure?  It took only a moment for the young man to respond, “I will spare this tree.”

            “Come back tomorrow and I will give you the first of five treasures,”  said the guardian.

The young man hurried home, not believing his good fortune and eagerly awaited the next day. 

Morning arrived and the man hurried to the grove of trees.  He could not wait to receive the first gift.  The guardian was waiting quietly and smiled as the man ran to him.  The wise old man put his hands together and lifted them toward the younger man.  There in his cupped hands sat an elegant origami paper crane. 

The young man’s face filled with surprise.  “It’s beautiful!  How did this get here?  What does it mean?”

The old man spoke.  “The first gift is the gift of wonder.”  His eyes twinkled as he handed the crane to the young man.

The young man took the crane and turned it this way and that.  “This crane is fascinating.  The gift of wonder, eh?  He wandered away, closely examining the crane.  Talking to himself, he asked, “I wonder what comes next?”

The next day arrived and the young man hurried to the tree.  The guardian was waiting, and in his cupped hands was another paper crane.  “Another beautiful crane!” the young man exclaimed.  “To join the gift of wonder!  What is this wondrous gift?”

The old man smiled.  “This is the gift of innocent joy.”

“Innocent joy?”

The guardian replied, “Happiness without obligation.  Happiness without consequence.”

The young man smiled.  “So it is.”  He bowed, saying, “Thank you for this gift.”  The old man appeared to be tired, so the young man left quietly, cradling his crane.

The first two cranes made the young man think and when he returned the next day, his mind had begun to open.

The guardian was ready and gave a weary smile.  He held out his hands again where another crane sat waiting.  The young man nodded, returning the smile.  “What is this gift?” he asked, as he gently took the crane.

“This crane is the gift of peace,” the old man offered.  “Peace.  Calm.  Understanding. Acceptance.”

The young man smiled and gazed at the crane.  He did feel at peace.

When the next day arrived, the young man was calm, prepared to accept whatever gift was next.  The guardian smiled; the crane was poised and ready.  The older man spoke, “This crane is the gift of love.  Love for others, love for oneself.”

The young man accepted the gift and bowed. “Thank you,” he said.  He noticed the old man seemed more tired than before and as he turned to leave, the young man murmured thoughtfully to himself, “Love for others…”  He was becoming concerned for the old man’s health, and that night, he decided to prepare a warm dinner for the man.  He made his way through the darkened forest and as he neared the grove of trees, he heard the sound of chopping wood and splashing water.  He crept quietly through the trees and carefully peered through the leaves. 

The young man was stunned.  The guardian was cutting down one of the trees and turning it into paper.  As he did so, he seemed to grow a little older, his spirit grew a little dimmer.

Horrified, the young man hurried home.  “What have I done?  What sacrifices has the old man made?  How can I ever reconcile what has been done?”  He fell into a troubled sleep, determined to make things right.

Morning arrived and the young man appeared at the tree.  He smiled as he approached the guardian, who produced one last crane.  The old man began to speak, “This last crane is the gift of caring-”

“And compassion,” the younger man interjected, “and sharing. And perhaps most importantly, the gift of giving.”  He smiled at the guardian and repeated, “The gift of giving.”  With that, the young man brought forth five saplings and planted them in the grove.  When he was done, he turned to the old man and asked, “It was never about the cranes,” he concluded.  “It was all about the gifts, wasn’t it?”  The wind sighed in the trees, and the guardian smiled and nodded, slowly fading into the mist. 

The young man chuckled, gathered his cranes and was happy with his gifts.  He left the forest that day, determined to live a peaceful, productive life.

 

“So that’s it?  What happened to the young man? Where did he go?” I asked.

The man in the coffee shop smiled and shrugged.  He quietly stood and left the table, leaving behind five paper cranes.

A Gift of Paper (2016)

 

            Many years ago, the word spread throughout the land that the king was coming to visit, and the citizens who lived there made great plans to honor his arrival.  There was much concern over finding the perfect present to offer him, and people searched far and wide for that one special gift.

            One young man named Shishi sought the counsel of the wisest monk from the temple.  “What gift should I bring?” he asked.  “Should I bring gold? Silver? Should I bring gems?”

            Fukuro, the monk, shook his head.  “Gold and silver and gems will disappear into the hands of greedy men and harden their hearts.”

            “What then?” Shishi asked.

            “I propose a gift of a different kind.”  Fukuro went to a cabinet and returned with a cloth bound box.  He placed it in front of the young man and motioned him to open it.

            Shishi unwrapped the package and carefully lifted the lid.  “What’s this?” he asked, as he stared dumbfounded.  “A gift of paper??”

            The monk shook his head.  “You are only seeing what is obvious.  Do not see only with your eyes; see with your heart.”  He took some of the paper from the box and beckoned him.  “Come.  Follow me.”

            The two went out into the village where they soon came upon some children playing in the park.  The old man took one of the sheets of paper and deftly folded a paper crane.  He gave it to one of the children who squealed happily and ran off to show his mother.  It did not take long for the other children to clamor for their own cranes, and the monk quickly passed out the folded birds.  As the two men turned to leave the park, Fukuro turned to Shishi and asked, “Tell me.  What did you see?”

            The young man thought carefully, “Joy…wonder…”  The monk nodded and continued on his walk. 

They soon arrived at a café and came upon a harried mother with a fussy child.  The old man smiled and flourished a piece of paper in front of the toddler.  The baby quieted and looked in wonder as a paper crane dramatically appeared.  The young mother smiled gratefully as the youngster played with his new toy.  The monk turned to the young man and asked, “And what did you see here?”

“Calm… peace...”

The monk smiled. 

Their walk led to the university where they found a student hunched over her books, lost in thought.  Fukuro took another paper and quickly folded another crane.  He placed it on the student’s desk, and she looked up in surprise.  Smiling, she took the crane in her hands and nodded, bowing to the monk.  As they left the school, the monk turned to Shishi yet again.  “And here? What did you see?”

The young man answered, “You gave her a token of good luck.”

By this time the duo had arrived back at the monastery where the monk bade the young man to reflect upon what he might have learned.

“You said not to see with my eyes, but to see with my heart,” Shishi started.

Fukuro nodded.  “Yes…So what did you see?”

“You did not give just paper, but gave out joy and wonder, peace and calm, and good fortune.”

“Very good,” the monk replied.

But then the young man looked stricken.  “But this gift of paper…I don’t know how to fold a paper crane!”

Smiling, Fukuro took one more piece of paper, and began to write.  After a few moments, he folded the paper in half, passed it to the young man, and walked away.  Shishi unfolded the paper to find the message written inside.

There is another gift of paper. And that is… Write a note from your heart. ”Good job” “You’re a nice person” “Thank you” “I love you” …Give of oneself. It has never been about the paper.

            So.

Here is my gift of paper to you. 

A story of how one man learned about the gift of oneself. 

Oh, the old monk’s note? 

 

Now we both have it.

The Thousand Crane Wish (2017)

 

“Daddy, can you teach me how to make paper cranes?  I need to make a thousand.  I want to make a wish.”

            Toshiro’s father looked up from his newspaper and smiled.  “A thousand crane wish?  It must be important.”

            Toshiro nodded and pointed next door.  “My friend Tommy says it doesn’t snow in Texas and that we won’t have a white Christmas.  I want to make a wish and make it snow!”

            “Ahhh, that IS a big wish Toshiro!”  His father smiled sympathetically.  The move from Hokkaido in northern Japan had not been easy for his young son.  The warm winter of Texas was a difficult adjustment for the little boy.  “A thousand cranes will take a long time to fold.” 

A look of disappointment crossed Toshiro’s face. 

“But…” Toshiro’s father gazed at him, raising an eyebrow, “we should try.”

=

            Several hours later, Toshiro sleepily looked up at his father.  “How many do we have now?”

            “We have …” his father paused, counting, “one hundred seventy seven.”

            The little boy sighed.  “I guess we won’t get snow…”

            His father picked him up to carry him to bed.  “We can finish later, and wish for something else instead…”

            “Something else instead…” Toshiro echoed sleepily.  “Something else instead…”

=

The next morning as he woke, Toshiro opened his eyes sleepily and then gasped.  “My bed is covered with snow!” he shouted.  He rubbed his eyes and laughed as his parents looked into his room.  “Hey this isn’t snow, these are paper cranes!” He scooped up a handful to show his parents. 

His mother raised an eyebrow at her husband. “A thousand paper cranes, hmm?”   He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Toshiro hurriedly pulled on his clothes.  “I’m going to go show Tommy!” he said, grabbing some of the cranes.  He raced through the house, flung open the front door, and stopped in his tracks.

“Well how about that…” murmured his father.

Snow had come to Texas.