With Sincere Gratitude

In October, four months after Igarashi had lost his job, he signed up for driving lessons to get a bus driver's license. Igarashi had been inspired by someone's comment at one of the hoza sessions that securing such a driver's license might help him to find a good job. "I enjoyed driving, but it had never occurred to me to try to get a large-vehicle license. I shall be eternally grateful for that chance comment."

Nearly two months later, at the end of the year, Igarashi had his license in hand. In February of the new year, he learned that a bus company was advertising for drivers and he went to take their screening test. He passed the test and after a training period began a new career as a bus driver.

Fresh on the job, Igarashi was taken aback by the bad manners of the high-school students he encountered on his route. He passed by a number of high schools and his bus was filled every morning and evening by high-school students who talked in loud voices, chatted on their mobile phones, and even burst into song without a thought for the other passengers on the bus. When someone complained, they would quiet down for a few minutes, but very quickly the bus would return to its usual chaotic state. All of the bus drivers were annoyed by the students. It wasn't long before Igarashi, too, found himself increasingly angry at the students. Somewhere along the way he forgot his initial joy at once again having a steady job.

"They're passengers, so you don't dare get mad at them, but you can't really hide your feelings. You get prickly with your words. I knew I should restrain myself, but the anger would just well up inside. It was hard to keep it down."

One day, Igarashi learned that most of the high-school students were using one-year bus passes. Even with a student discount, a year's commuting pass could cost quite a bit of money.

"It suddenly occurred to me: I can work because the passengers need me. Every single person who gets on my bus is important. I had been on the verge of forgetting a very simple truth."

Igarashi recalled the many words of thanks and appreciation that he had heard in the hoza sessions. He thought hard about how he might express his thanks and appreciation to his passengers. He decided he would welcome each person who boarded the bus with a smile and when passengers disembarked, he would send them off with a hearty "Thank you."

The very next day, Igarashi set about putting his new plan into practice. But he had trouble getting the words out at first. No one could hear him because of the noise the students were always making. This situation continued for two whole months. One day, however, the students boarding the bus began to respond to his "Good morning" with a "Good morning" of their own. This was unexpected and wonderful. It had not occurred to Igarashi that anyone would respond. His voice rang with his new-found pleasure.

Soon Igarashi and his passengers were exchanging daily greetings as a matter of course, and gradually Igarashi realized that the students were not as rowdy as they had been before. One day, a middle-aged couple on their way to climb Mount Gassan boarded the bus along with the usual group of students. They watched as Igarashi and the students exchanged their usual greetings. "How wonderful. The local students are certainly well-mannered," one of the mountain-climbers commented.

Igarashi was reminded of one of the lessons he had learned in a hoza session: "Change yourself and those around you will change, too." "I realized at that moment," he now recalls, "that the Buddha was right, and that all I had to do was to put his teachings into practice."

This past March, Igarashi was given a chance to talk about his experience of being laid off and what he went through before and after he found his new job. But as he began putting his thoughts down on paper, Igarashi decided that was not enough. There was something else he wanted to talk about and that was about his stepfather. Igarashi had been only five years old when his father died in a car accident. His mother, Kazumi, later remarried, and it was his stepfather, Shoji, who supported the family thereafter. Now Shoji was 74 years old, and Igarashi realized that he had never really thanked his stepfather for all he had done. They had never really felt comfortable with each other and remained distant. "If I'm going to be talking to others, I want to first tell my stepfather how much I appreciate what he did for the family."

One evening, Igarashi sat down before his stepfather. "Thank you for taking care of me all these years. I am truly grateful. Please, let me give you a massage to show my appreciation." Without waiting for his stepfather to respond, Igarashi quickly moved behind him and began to massage his shoulders and arms. Shoji remained silent.

And then, there is another person Igarashi wanted to give thanks to: his third daughter, 16-year-old Miho. It is always Miho who steps in to lighten everyone's spirits when there is a family spat. Miho is mentally disadvantaged, but her smile soothes the whole family. "You know, it just may be Miho who keeps us united as a family. I can see the Buddha in every encounter and I am rediscovering how very grateful I am to all kinds of people. Thank goodness I was laid off!"

The seeds of thanksgiving can be found anywhere, if we will only look for them. Igarashi has discovered that if you plant them and cultivate them, they will bear amazing fruit.

Hiromasa Igarashi is a member of the Tsuruoka Branch of Rissho Kosei-kai in Yamagata Prefecture.

This article was originally published in the November/December 2005 issue of Dharma World.