Honohina-Papaaloa Hongwanji

    There was a warm trade wind sweeping a salty mist in from the ocean and Reverend Yoshino wondered if the past rainy days were blowing over. The Hamakua coast was known for its heavy rains, and he always looked forward to the moment when the raindrops would first touch the ground and that fresh earthy smell would appear. It was still early in the morning and Reverend Yoshino was already busy sweeping the Temple lanai’s long wooden sidewalks. He liked to get up early before it got too hot and before the hustle and bustle of the sugar mill. Off in the distance he thought he could hear a soft train whistle approaching Maulua gulch from Hilo.  He had heard talk at the Laupahoehoe Train Station of a “Scenic Express” that made his heart jump more than a little and made his palms start to sweat. The Maulua bridge was more than 1,000 feet long and had just been completed last year. Would he dare get a ticket? He heard they would stop sometimes on the bridge trestles where passengers would disembark to admire the scenery below.  And on the train they enjoyed carpeting, wicker furniture, and a menu with consommé en tasse, tongue, fresh fruit, and pot roast. He absently wiped his sweaty hands on his cotton pants and looked back up at the mill. It was perched on the cliff alongside the temple and he knew the workers would be showing up anytime now. The flumes had just started running and the 100 pound bundles of cane would not be far behind. Reverend Yoshino had just arrived in April as the 5th minister of the 18 year old Temple and he wanted everything to be just right for his upcoming service. Bishop Imamura would be coming to Hilo this week and he heard the Bishop might even visit his temple. There was so much he wanted to do, but he was having trouble concentrating on his work. He caught himself gazing out over the blue water at a small fishing boat bobbing up and down in the deep Pacific swells. Turning back to his work he noticed a nearby bonsai tree that he had been working on. He had learned the art of growing bonsai growing up in the family temple and always marveled at their incredible beauty as they matured. Perhaps the young Juniper was not flaring enough at the base to visually anchor the plant properly, still he was hoping for that elusive Shakan style – leaning in as if struggling through a windstorm. Ahh - once again he catches his “monkey mind” wandering and with extra effort swishes the old stiff broom against the smooth worn walkway - knowing he must prepare for his upcoming service. How many times had his father told him, "ichigo ichie”, in this moment an opportunity. His father and his father’s father were also ministers for their family temple in Fukuoka and he wanted to make them all proud. Hey, maybe he should use this in his sermon tomorrow.  To remember that each morning we have in the world, every moment we spend with our children or our loved ones, is infinitely valuable and deserves our full attention. We are always just one breath away ... yes, he smiles, this will fit in well with tomorrow’s sermon.  

                                                                                                                                                                                       JB