Meditations of My Heart
My Turn
Unconditional Love
Takayuki Harada
Little did we know that Trevor would live out the rest of his life with us. His owner left him with us while he returned to California to start a new life. His intent was to have us send Trevor later when he found a house with a yard.
A couple of months later, he realized that he was not going to be able to find an appropriate place for Trevor that included a yard. He asked if we would like to keep Trevor, and by then we were in love with him, so the rest is history.
Trevor was the ideal dog for he loved our back yard and would remain there for hours. When he first came into our lives, our yard had no fence. Still he would not venture beyond the boundaries of our yard except when a cat came into view. His one flaw was that he had absolutely no control once a cat was in his sights.
His relationship with us was unconditional. He loved us. He loved other dogs. He loved children. He loved people. He loved to walk around the neighborhood.
People knew his name, but not ours. Everyone knew Trevor. His presence reminded of God’s unconditional love for me.
If there was an example of unconditional love, it was Trevor. He shared that love with us and with all who knew him.
Sadly, in September, it was time for him to return to the source of that unconditional love, and we know God now has him in his special care. I thank God for Trevor.
TREVOR
Like the cool winds that swirl around us
You entered our lives as a cool breeze
You came to refresh us by your presence
Almost invisible like the wind
You became a part of our lives
Unassuming and loving
Slowly you became a part of our family
Little did we even sense it happening
Life went on and moments became hours
Hours became days and days became months
The months turned to years
And you remained true and loving.
Wherever you went, whoever you met
You became a friend to all who touched you
You became Trevor and they knew your name
You loved every one of them
Yes, you came into their lives like the wind
Much like you came into ours
Like the breeze that caressed our faces
You softly touched each person
Your moment of destiny came like the wind
You left us with great memories
Like the soft breeze blowing in our lives
They will comfort us forever.
A hui hou, Trevor
September 9, 2011
Takayuki Harada
On April 1, 1946 the Aleutian Islands experienced a massive earthquake, causing a Pacific-wide tsunami. There was widespread destruction and loss of life when the tsunami struck the Hawaiian Islands early on the morning of April Fools Day.
Several lives were lost and there was major destruction to the communities on the North Shore of Kauaʻi. As miraculous stories of survivors in the March 11, 2011 Japan tsunami were, so were the stories on the April 1st tsunami that struck the North Shore of Kauaʻi. With each tsunami warning over the years, I pause and think about the story of the 1946 tsunami on Kauaʻi.
On that particular day, three of my siblings were late in their departure for school. My older sisters were having their hair done by my sister-in-law. Their daily route to school included walking out of Lumahaʻi Valley, through the Wainiha Valley, and on to Hāʻena School. It was a three-mile walk. As they walked that morning, my brother and two older sisters noticed some unusual changes in the Lumahaʻi River.
As they approached Wainiha Valley, they could hear people shouting. My father and other workers of the Robinson family who were on a hill across the valley were trying to warn the three children as they walked down towards the lower part of the valley.
The workers had already witnessed the first of many waves to hit the islands and they had escaped up into the surrounding hills. But my brother and sisters were not sure what direction the voices were coming from. At the same time they noticed that the Wainiha Bay was emptying out. They realized something was very wrong and ran up the hill on the side of the road. Had they not been detained by my sister-in-law for those few minutes, they would have been in the middle of Wainiha Valley where the waves had come and destroyed the village.
During these same moments, my oldest brother saw his house floating in the middle of the bay as the third wave in the valley was receding. It had destroyed most of the homes in the valley.
In just a few moments, his house broke apart and disappeared in the raging water. His wife and infant daughter were at home when he left to pick up the Robinson workers.
He did not know that his wife had escaped the house as it was floating away from its foundation. She had been able to run up the hill behind the house.
Life is often taken for granted. But I know that unusual circumstances can alter our lives. I am extremely grateful for the few minutes that my sister-in-law detained my older brother and two older sisters. Their lives have had a tremendous impact on my life. I know life would have changed dramatically without them. The three of them have helped to forge a path that led me to the place I now stand some sixty-five years later.
As I watch the miraculous stories from Japan, I am thankful for the miracle that took place in Lumahaʻi Valley. When such miracles occur in our lives, let us always be thankful for the fullness of life.
All along the way our lives are blessed. We know not why, but when we accept these events as gifts, our lives will be greatly enriched.
I thank God for saving Kikuo, Fumiko and Msa from the tsunami of 1946. I also thank God for sparing my niece, Lily, and her mother, Rose, that fateful morning. When I think how important they have all been in my life and how enriched my life has been because of them, I pause to say, “Mahalo ke Akua.”
My Turn
Caterpillars and Butterflies
The theme for the 2010 Hoʻokupu Makahiki or Annual Appeal focused on butterflies. Several members and friends responded with their own stories about butterflies. Among them was a letter received from Lowaena Hau of Kaʻahumanu Congregational Church, Wailuku.
This morning I saw another caterpillar making its way across the (church) parking lot to find the right little tree with a big leaf to transform itself into a beautiful butterfly and I thought about . . . the message that was in your (letter for the annual appeal).
Nowadays I try to look out for those humble little guys slithering across the pavement to find freedom, to gift themselves to the eye of the beholder amidst the dangers that may hamper their feat before they even have a chance to (be) transformed.
It is very early in the morning that I see them as though racing to get to the other end of the pavement. The birds and the chickens are still in the trees and the cars have not come yet but they will very soon. I bend down and pick up God’s creation to take it where it is safe inside the gate and it will find that leaf to transform itself into that beautiful butterfly.
Isn’t it incredibly fascinating? We are as the caterpillar, hurrying away from the dangers of this earth to reach God before we get swallowed up by the evils of the world. Mahalo to Ke Akua for his wonderful love and grace and for (being reminded) that God’s creatures and creations make us humble – a beautiful message of creation that goes further than science. God is love.
Lowaena Hau
December 20, 2010
Wailuku, Maui
Our Church’s Wider Mission
Cathy Hobson
Cathy Hobson, a member of the Board of Mission & Outreach, made the following presentation on Our Church’s Wider Mission at the congregational meeting that was held on Sunday, November 21, 2010.
I didn’t realize how hard it would be to choose just a few words to say about Our Church’s Wider Mission (OCWM). We all know that our contributions to One Great Hour of Sharing help in disaster response around the world—the earthquake in Haiti, tsunami in Indonesia, etc. It’s good to know that our annual donations help to build a fund to give immediate assistance to people struck by unexpected natural events.
However, when I started investigating OCWM I found much more. For one thing our congregation has two special offerings—the Henry ʻŌpūkahaʻia Scholarship Fund in February which assists students studying for the ministry and the Christmas Fund that helps retired church workers and clergy who are in need.
Secondly, the annual budget of Keawalaʻi has, for many years, included a contribution to Basic Support for the national ministries of the United Church of Christ (UCC). These national ministries include conferences to provide support and continuing education for volunteers and staff, resources for Christian education, stewardship education, youth events and camps, and justice advocacy.
Since our Keawalaʻi Church was founded by missionaries over 180 years ago, I wondered, “What happened to old-fashioned missionary work in this new age?” This is what I found.
The organization developed by the UCC and the Disciples of Christ is called Global Ministries. The web site lists 54 individuals, some co-sponsored with the Presbyterian Church, USA, who work in Africa, Latin American and the Caribbean, the Middle East and Europe, Southern Asia and East Asia & the Pacific. The work they do ranges from a couple from Nashville who are in India as a medical director and anesthesiologist in a hospital, and a couple from Connecticut who are professors in Biblical studies and church music in Nanjing, China.
They also include a woman from Queens, New York, who works in Kenya in the “networking and advocacy program of the Greenbelt Movement” and is the coordinator of the youth volunteer program and a young woman from Los Fresnos, Texas who is listed as an environmental and Christian Education specialist in Chile.
On Sunday, August 8, 2010 Taka Harada shared his thoughts and reflections about Auntie Caroline in a sermon he preached that day. We include his thoughts and his poem here. Auntie Caroline De Lima was born on 1917 in Waikīkī, Oahu. She died at her home in Kahului on July 20, 2010. A memorial service in remembrance and celebration of her life was held at Keawala‘i Congregational Church on Saturday, July 31, 2010.
Auntie Caroline
I still remember Sunday, June 4, 1996 as I attended Keawala‘i for the first time to worship. It was a lonely time for me as I just left the church I had served for thirty years. I was greeted by Bill Richter outside the church doors. As I sat by the makai window, Auntie Eleanor was there to make sure I was comfortable. As service began, I saw a tiny woman seated next to Kahu.
As the service began she stood up and led the congregation in “The Lord’s Prayer.” Something about her stuck with me. Throughout the years as we sing “The Lord’s Prayer” in the morning service, I often think of her.
As the years passed, I learned a lot about the tremendous impact she had in keeping this church a spiritual “pu‘uhonua.” She now joins many that have been spiritual leaders who kept the doors of this special place open.
Taka Harada
July 20, 2010
Like a bright moon in the evening skies
Brightening the heavens and the earth below
Your life has been a beacon and a guide
Living the life God gave you with grace!
How beautiful the smile I see
Within my mind’s eye it brightens
I see your face when your name is mentioned
Or, when I see your children!
Your dedication and commitment is now forever etched
On the walls of this vibrant church
Each stone a reminder for each Saint
Your name now added to a wall of Memories!
We are the children of your love for God
Each hoping to be able to run the race
Your outstretched arms with a baton
Left in our hands to continue to the finish line!
I sadly bow my head as my heart aches
But you are a precious memory in our hearts
To carry in times of sorrow and happiness
You live forever in our memories!
We surrender you to go to a place of perfect rest
In the presence of your God and master
Whose loving arms now cradle you
Forever and ever more!
A hui hou!
“Brass Whale Oil Lamps”
Sue Johnson
Sue Johnson is family to Keawalaʻi Congregational Church through the Cockett ʻohana. Her father Christopher Cockett was born on July 29, 1895. He died on July 21, 1987. Her mother, Mary Cockett, was born on January 21, 1908 and died on November 17, 1988. What follows is her memory of the story of one of two brass whale oil lamps that remain from several lamps that once hung from the church ceiling.
The following story is what I remember about the history of the brass whale oil lamps which King George gave to King Kalākaua and that King Kālakaua gave to the church.
Sometime about what I think was 1975, my folks were at the church cleaning it up, and they found some remnants of old brass lamps “under the church,” according to my mom. They apparently found several lamp bases, in varying degrees of disrepair, and several shattered glass shades, along with two unbroken shades. They brought them home.
As there was only one bright pink glass shade and one aqua blue glass shade, they decided to restore only two lamps. I remember my dad enjoying working on them, kind of reshaping then putting them together, polishing them.
When the lamps were restored, my folks did not know what to do with them. At that time Keawalaʻi had no regular minister, only short-term ministers who were often semi-retired and who would come for 90 days and then leave. My folks were aware that the lamps were valuable and they didn’t just want to leave them at the church. I can remember her walking up the road every Sunday, carrying them to church, and placing them on either side of the altar.
My dad died in 1987 and when my mom died in 1988, I did not know what to do with the lamps as I was living on the “mainland” full-time and I wanted them to remain in Mākena. As the church still had no regular minister, I decided to give them to Auntie Caroline DeLima since she lived close to Keawalaʻi and since I knew that she, too, would take good care of them.
That’s my story. I know my mom is happy knowing that at least one of the lamps has been returned to the church.
Singing in the Choir”
Beth Gawain
Beth Gawain of Kīhei was one of the founding members of Nā Leo Nahenahe when the choir first met in February 1998. For over a decade Beth has been a faithful member of the choir and church, having also served as a trustee. On Sunday, September 27, 2009 Stephen Haines, Choir Director, presented Beth with lei as an “Affirmation of Ministry” for her years of service.
Beth shared her thoughts that day about the significance of music in her life. Here, she shares her manaʻo further.
On Sunday 17 September 2009 the Keawalaʻi Church honored me by giving me a very beautiful orchid lei. I was being thanked for years of singing in the choir and serving on the Choir Committee. I was deeply touched.
I spoke of how much I’ve always loved to sing. Although my voice is nothing special, I can carry a tune, and love using song as a way of expressing ourselves and as a way of being together.
From the smallest child I’d join with my mother singing as she worked around the house or did handcrafts. Now people turn on the radio, but our real blessing was that THERE WAS NO RADIO yet. This was early 1920s and radios were not yet common, and anyway there were no music broadcasts. Until we had a wind-up Victrola, the only music in the world was LIVE music.
When people got together in the evenings, they sang. Many homes had a piano and there was always someone who could play well enough to lead. There were also banjos and harmonicas. Everyone sang. It didn’t matter at all if someone didn’t sing well. It was what we did together.
I’m interested to notice that all over the world it has been common in human evolution – that a tribe would gather and they would sing and dance. It was an early form of expressing that we are “us.” To vocalize rhythmically is a way of bonding, and of celebrating or mourning. It is also a way to work up energy for a group effort, or to give rhythm to group movement that requires coordination, such as paddling or heaving a heavy weight or swinging hammers and axes.
A particular song would express the identity of one group from another. Each team or fraternity or church tended to have a particular song. If you heard YOUR team’s song among a group of strangers, you knew at once that someone here is “one-of-us.” When singing “our song” together, as at the end of a gathering, we all sing with particular fervor and feel deep emotion and belonging.
So that is what I’ve experienced singing in the choir. And singing four-part harmony is especially bonding because together we are creating this GLORIOUS sound that none of us can make ALONE. We, each of us, must be very aware of how the note that I am singing relates to each of the other tones and how my sound must be just SO, to combine and blend and do its share to make such magnificence.
And of course singing in this space, this church, with its perfect acoustics, and so much mana! A great privilege and one of the treasured memories of my life to praise God in this so satisfying a way all these years.
April 15th In Kuriyu Sanatorium
Taka Harada
On April 14th we had breakfast at the Asakusa View Hotel. We were looking forward to the visit to Kusatsu City, an area known for its onsen or hot springs and ski resorts. We were on the second leg of our trip.
We traveled for 4 ½ hours to visit the Kuriyu Sanatorium located in Kusatsu City. Little did we anticipate the tremendous emotional experience that would result from this visit. It was to a place where history records some of the most horrific stories told about patient suffering and human misery.
Kusatsu City is located half way up the mountain range that surrounds the city. As we approached the city limits, steam could be seen in the forest and within the city. It reminded me of the Big Island Kïlauea Volcano area where the steam and sulfur smell of volcanic activity is everywhere. The only difference was the 40 degree temperature and the beautiful sakura in full bloom.
After the long ride to Kuriyu Sanatorim, we were greeted by Akiko and Mr. Fujita, whom we met in Kalaupapa at our annual Ka ‘Ohana Kalaupapa meeting. We had a tour of the facilities and visited the notorious jail-like holding facilities which sanatorium authorities used to punish patients who were disorderly.
Many died in this facility. It was closed when patients and families protested the inhumane treatment of patients at this facility. It was used during the early years of Hansen’s disease treatment. The rooms were no larger than 5 feet by 5 feet with little sanitation and the winters were extremely cold and many died from the exposure to the elements.
We were then taken to the memorial where the ashes of patients and of the innocent aborted fetuses were enshrined. It was a difficult reminder of the visit to Suruga and the reminder of Takatsu. It was a beautiful area where pine trees and other tall trees surrounded the memorial.
After this visit, we were taken to our quarters and assigned our rooms. As we disembarked from the bus, I noticed the area was surrounded by snow-capped mountain ranges. It was spectacular as I took in the awe-inspiring surroundings. It brought back memories of how beautiful Kalaupapa is today.
The area creates the same feelings and you become consumed by the peacefulness and beauty of the area. It was here, that we were privilege to talk with Mr. Sakurai, whose daughter Mariko is memorialized with the others whose destiny was caught up in the hysteria and fear that surrounded those discovered with Hansen’s disease. I previously shared what followed in our interview with Mr. Sakurai.
In the early morning of April 15th, I had gotten up early morn to do my writing. I opened the back door of my room. Before me was one of the most spectacular sights I have ever seen. Far beyond the city limits were mountain ranges that clearly outlined the morning skies. There were fingers of light shooting into the dark morning skies whose magic slowly changed the sky from gray to light orange to bright red.
As I beheld this sight, I was overwhelmed by the scene before me knowing that this was witnessed so many times before by patients seeking hope and healing from the scourge of Hansen’s disease. All the words of the previous days and nights rang within my soul. It was so difficult to know how much pain and suffering those who viewed this sight endured for the rest of their lives. There was little hope and yet this scene perhaps offered the only hope for every patient that stood at this door taking in this spectacular sight.
The Sunrise of Another Day - Hope
The sunrise of another day
Hope against hope for something significant
That some day dignity and pride might be theirs
Just for a moment in their lives
The sunrise held a different meaning for the beholder!
The sunrise of another day
Signifying the awesomeness of that Creator
Who faithfully shared his light
The awesome and mighty power
That might someday overcome the hopelessness of the moment!
The sunrise of another day
The one who created the heavens and the earth
The source of comfort and peace
At this moment in time
A spark in each beholder!
The sunrise of another day
Can inspire the inner strength of the downtrodden
Whatever human misery wrought in their lives
A moment of realization
Of hope and love to lift their tired souls!
The sunrise of another day
I joined for a moment with those before me
I stood watching the sunrise pierce the darkness
Of human fear, prejudice, and discrimination
Illuminating pride, wholeness, and freedom!
The sunrise of another day
Brought forth this new day
For Mr. Koji Kaneda and Mr. Tetsuo Sakurai
For Takatsu and Mariko
An eternal story of hope for all mankind!
April 15th, the anniversary of Father Damien’s death,
the emerging sunrise gives me hope!
Taka Harada
September 2007
I gaze upon your final resting place
So peaceful, yet so powerful
For the instant your life was taken on this earth
Little did they realize your immortal soul
Will rise and live again for all mankind to hear your message!
A message of intolerance and fear
The painful cry of a helpless victim
Violently taken from the warmth of your mother's womb!
You stand tall this day as I gaze upon
you, Takatsu
You have finally become a boy and a person
You became a person for all to see
You became more than a fetus to me!
For every moment your story is told
You grow, you stand tall, you mature
You inspire, your voice is heard again
Over and over and over again!
Why is man so fearful and intolerant?
Why is man so scared and frightful?
When will we learn the lessons of the past?
When will we begin to trust one another?
So many questions arise as we see you
Your presence is still among us as a lesson
For out of open hearts and mind
You tell us in a small voice, “No more, No more!”
I stood where you lie
And saw the majestic Mt. Fujiyama
Your spirit, indeed, matches it’s purity and splendor
Your soul so pure and clean
Like the snow on top of the mountain.
I feel my own spirit lift high above
As I witness the unfolding of Mt. Fuji
Like the unfolding story of your spirit!
You represent the very spirit of this
mountain
Takatsu, as people look upon you
Their awe and wonderment will soar
Like the birds I hear all around me!
And the fresh sakura blossoms all around
The quietness of this place engulf me
I am glad I am here this very moment
To feel and hear your story retold for all the world to hear!
Overwhelmed with emotions,
Takatsu's story will be told
as long as I live!