by Masuo Nezu

These are personal reminiscences about the late founder Rev. Nikkyo Niwano from his former chief secretary, Masuo Nezu, now in retirement. During his years of service, the writer accompanied Rev. Niwano on dissemination tours, interreligious cooperation activities, and peace promotion work, both in Japan and overseas. This series recalls not only heartwarming episodes from the founder's everyday life, but also the spiritual insights derived from his words and deeds.

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On February 27, 1982, Rev. Nikkyo Niwano presented his memories of his youthful days clad in a traditional Japanese straw raincoat at the Founder's Birthplace Training Center in Suganuma, Niigata Prefecture.

Now, here is the story of Founder Niwano's mother. Rev. Niwano's mother's name was Mii. She was born into a farming family that lived in a village located in the same district as the village in which Rev. Niwano was born.

"A tender, hard-working, ordinary Japanese farm wife, she was for me something entirely absolute," Rev. Niwano wrote in his autobiography, Lifetime Beginner. She not only had to do the usual farm work, every spring she also joined the local farmers in transplanting rice seedlings from seedbeds to the flooded paddies. This took place at the same time that raising silkworms required most of her time. At all hours of the day and night, she had to feed those voracious creatures the mulberry leaves they needed to grow, leaving her almost no time for rest.

Snow began falling in November. From that time through the middle of spring, she worked at weaving. At night, she was always patching the family's clothes, especially those of the children. In the morning she woke up earlier than anyone else and at night she went to bed later than anyone else. This was her daily life. "When I happened to awake at night, I saw my mother in front of the fireplace, still plying a needle. Looking at her face, I became relaxed and fell asleep again."

One day when Rev. Niwano was still a youth he made an unannounced visit to his mother's parents' home. "In my mother's village, my uncle and aunt were weaving from five in the morning until ten at night. They had to stand up to do this work, so there was almost no time for sitting. Their legs were swollen, but with practice through the years, it was all right. My aunt, who became very good at weaving, lived to be over ninety. My mother seemed to learn from her dedication." Rev. Niwano recalled those days and told this story to his secretaries and those close to him, using an affectionate tone when he said "mother," "uncle," and "aunt."