A Thousand Cranes

In ancient times, the crane is regarded as a mystical creature and is believed to live for a thousand years in East Asia, particularly in Japan, China and Korea. The Japanese refer to the crane as the “bird of happiness”. The wings of the crane were believed to carry souls up to paradise. Mothers who pray for the protection of the crane’s wings for their children will recite the prayer:

"O flock of heavenly cranes, cover my child with your wings."

In the late 1700s in Japan, one of the first books on origami was published with the title, “How to Fold 1,000 Cranes.” The easy-to-follow directions and beautiful end result ensure the continuing popularity of the origami crane. When one thinks of the art of Origami, the crane is the traditional symbol of this art of paper folding. Moreover, the crane’s habit of mating with only one partner for the duration of its life made it to become the symbol for marital fidelity and honor. As a result, the origami crane also became a powerful symbol for loyalty, nobility, and beauty. According to Japanese tradition, anyone with the patience and commitment to fold 1,000 paper cranes will be granted their most desired wish, because they have exhibited the cranes’ loyalty and recreated their beauty.

Winged wishes,
folded in prayer and love...
a thousand paper cranes.
(Kabuteng P.Ink K.)

You may have read of the story of Sadako Sasaki before, a two year old victim of the first atomic bomb dropped in Hiroshima, she was by some account about 2 kilometers away from ground zero. After 8 years of relatively healthy life she was diagnosed with leukemia and given, at the most, a year to live. Sadako's roommate, another patient much older than her told her that if she can fold 1,000 cranes her wish would come true. Unfortunately, she only was able to fold 644 cranes before she passed away at the age of 12. Her classmates then continued to fold cranes in her honor and she was buried with a wreath of 1,000 cranes to honor her wish. Since then, folding paper cranes became a symbol of healing not only in Japan but hopefully around the world.

Her statue at Seattle Peace Park.

Sources:
1000cranes.com...
www.jccc.on.ca...
Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr


Thousand Cranes Lyrics (Hiroshima, 1989)
Show her now that we do care,
with a love that we all share.
Send her a thousand cranes,
send her your thousand cranes.

Show her now that we do care,
with a hope that we all share.
Send her a thousand cranes
send her your thousand cranes.

To restore our faith in humanity like a number of threads before, I would like to appeal for your contributions of inspiring stories however modest, be it something that happened to you personally, a friend, a family member, an acquaintance or something you read on line. A link to a book, an article or video- old or new will be very much appreciated. Pardon the mush.

Peace and a virtual Origami crane to you all.

It was shortly after the valve was installed, and a dream, had startled me awake. There was a darkness, but all that was needed was that I rise, and reset the circuit. As I was about to flip the breaker, my eyes were drawn to the drywall patch two feet from the service, where we had cut, and patched, a hole for the electrician to access the inlet, for placement of a larger service buss, over a decade ago. There was a piece of clear packaging tape over the patch, and a loose black wire. Before I flipped the breaker, I intended to source the wire. I lifted the tape, and revealed a hole, behind which were the ants. Rat sized, and hard at work.

I rose, and stumbled to the cabinet for some Raid, and a mallet.

Oh, just a dream. I went back to sleep.

Next day, it was cold, but a nice day to walk. As I shut the door I was made to look up for the cause of loud, tremulous and plaintive cries. There were, circling the house, a ring of huge fat birds much larger than expected geese, and They remained long enough for me to hear their cries, realize I had never seen them before, and to count them. They looked like flying bowling pins, and were around 5-6 feet across. There were 55.

Then they arranged a wedge, and flew toward the Gulf, leaving me to wonder
how would I speak of Them.

I spent time researching, and tried to corroborate their sound with migrating birds.

Initially I had them figured as Great Northern Loons, but a later sighting, this year, made me believe Cranes. They were Cranes.

As Spring neared, I was having difficulty staying alive.
I began to get out, away from the house. This mitigated the swelling, contusions.
If no one were around to see it, it meant I was able to peacefully lay down.
Neighbors were alarmed at what I spoke about, and often walked away in mid-sentence.

It worsened as my birthday approached, and I simply assumed I was to die. If I were to live through it,
it would mean that I had exceeded the time my Father had spent in this plane. But I was accepting
otherwise, because this was not something anyone I know was terribly fond of hearing.
Oh, hi, how are your convulsions? Yes, I too am waking with a paralyzing current running through my body.
Let's do lunch, we can compare notes...

Then, clearing crap from the yard, it went into my thoughts to check on the wall valve,
because I had long wondered when, if ever, we were getting tagged with the smart grid.
The faded tag taped to the top of the glass read Oct 25 2015.

I had 7 days to make it. I knew I could not do this, alone.

Neigbors walk away in mid-sentence, and that's fine.

# 690

a reply to: TheWhiteKnight
That's pretty good, unapologetically unsentimental, a bit baffling at first, yet refreshing. Like jumping at the deep end of a cold lake at night. Thank you, it was a welcome jolt.

Love the edits.

a reply to: MaxTamesSiva

Beautiful, thank you.

MaxTamesSiva

I've always loved how humans have the capability to make lemonade out of lemons. The way we view the world really does have a direct impact on how we live in it. Here's 6 stories of people making lemonade out of lemons...

Imagine you're a citizen of the small Scottish town of Lockerbie, and one day in 1988, hundreds of pieces of metal, random objects, and body parts come raining out of the sky -- a Pan Am airplane carrying 259 people was blown up over you in a terrorist attack, killing all occupants plus 11 bystanders. How would you react? If you didn't say, "By screaming endlessly, curling up in the fetal position under my bed, then moving the hell out of town," then you're braver than us.Well, the actual townspeople of Lockerbie didn't have time to panic. They were too busy diving into the wreckage to collect any personal items they might find. No, not to keep them or sell them on eBay (again: '80s). Simply to comfort the victim's families.

In order to store the tens of thousands of debris pieces that had been scattered over 845 square miles, the first thing the townspeople did was build a warehouse. From scratch. Any items that weren't of forensic value were left for them to organize. But they couldn't hand them to the bereaved families looking all ugly, no. They had to make them presentable. Working as a gigantic assembly line of washers and dryers and ironers and folders, the townspeople restored the countless items of clothing scattered across the charred, muddy, usually quite apocalyptic landscape. They developed rolls and film and put diaries back together to identify the owners, while any stray rings, wallets, and other effects were carefully matched up to the corresponding suitcase. In one instance, the State Department informed one family that they couldn't have their daughter's stuff back because it was "too badly damaged." The people of Lockerbie scoffed at that and un-damaged it...

For me, a few of these stories, the people, were in the worst situation a regular person could be in. Yet they still tried to find some happiness and carry on while they were there... instead of giving up and spending the rest of their days in sorrow.

Thanks for the thread,
blend57

I could have written more detail, more meaning into it, but I let it stand.

It was a rare dream wherein one wakes up in the dream, and awakens again when it becomes sufficiently horrific, such as when I noticed the tape and wire which are not there in real life, and which drew my attention. I could have mentioned the small flashlight, the utter darkness save for the weak beam which probed beyond the small hole that emerged, and the glistening properties of the ant's exoskeltons. That this dream was impossible to forget I do credit with my life, as in, the source of the dream. So many of them can be mulled over and upon interminably, but vanish as soon as one rises from the bed.

Mind you, I had been situated 4 feet from the RF signal, for 6 months unaware, which signal is more powerful than cellphones, and though we managed to get the RF removed, it links to sats just as easily, one can hear and feel it, as the signal for the tele cuts out momentarily and the pitch in the room alters. Furniture groans, walls tremble slightly. I happen to have excellent hearing, which is a blessing. So the isovalve still does operate just as it was designed to function, on the ectoplasm. We were supposed to get an analog valve, and it will never get here, because the person who pays the bill is sensitive to learning about the hazard. Excelon told us it 'would take a long time'.

What doesn't kill ya makes you a little less likely to continue.

It was an honor to have witnessed these birds, Whooping Cranes, and their magnificent 'unison call':

www.bringbackthecranes.org...

Now, imagine 55 of these, and right over your house. It was about a minute, maybe 90 seconds of flying in a circle. These birds are 7 feet across. The only other time I was so impressed and delighted was a mid-morning White Owl meeting. He was perched where I normally parked at a factory in Chicago, as we were shuttering it for sale. I was there to meet with a man from a propane supplier, who was collecting our tanks, both empty and full, for the final time. Opened the back door, and there it was. I am searching for the receipt, and a little upset that I cannot immmediately find it, as it has the date. It was Oct.-Nov., about 13 years ago. I recall the period well, like a 6 month long dream, right after seeing the Owl. It was like seeing a flying man due to the size, and maybe something more.

a reply to: MaxTamesSiva


# 694

Thank you guys. Hey blend, you might like this.