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Story Time: From Japan with love
My father went to a meeting in Tokyo not long ago. On his return he told us about an event which made a deep and happy impression on his mind. The prodigy was a bonny little girl about seven years old. Let me narrate this memorable event or incident as my father told us:
At the end of this five-day visit, my work concluded on a pleasant note. As usual, my hosts sent me a car to fetch me from the hotel. It was drizzling. I put on my macintosh, tucking away my passport and purse in its inner pocket. I put some ready cash in the outer pocket of my jacket and rushed downstairs.
Our final meeting ended on schedule. The drizzle had stopped and I decided to walk to my hotel some four miles away. On the way I peeped into a museum. I stopped in front of an ikibana shop to admire flower arrangements. I was beginning to feel hungry, so I stepped into a clean little restaurant to eat some sushi. I flung my macintosh on the back of an empty chair and enjoyed the Japanese snack. The drizzle started again and I decided to hire a cab. Cab-drivers are very polite — more polite to foreigners — and they do not dictate the fare randomly.
Reaching my destination I dug into the inner pocket of my macintosh, and I was utterly shocked to find my passport and the purse missing. I could not believe it. The hotel’s receptionist paid off the cabman, and assured me that he would encash my travellers’ cheques as the banks would have closed by that time. But I was most anxious about my passport because I was to leave for home that night. I sat dismally down in the hotel’s foyer, holding my head in my hands, thinking hopelessly what should be done. Just at that moment a smart policeman entered the hotel holding the hand of a bonny little Japanese girl about seven years old. The policeman spoke to the receptionist. The receptionist examined the papers presented to him. He winked happily and escorted the policeman and the little girl where I sat brooding.
The upshot of it all was that my passport and purse slipped out of the pocket when I flung my raincoat on the back of an empty chair. The little girl found them and presented them to the owner of the restaurant. My purse had the hotel’s card. It was not difficult to trace my whereabouts.
“Count your money, please,” said the policeman.
“Thank you, officer,” said I. “I trust you and I thank you very much. You have saved me from a lot of trouble. Here is your taxi fare, I said, holding out two currency notes.
“Thank you Sir,” replied the policeman. “I am on duty, and whatever I did was my duty too.”
I offered some money to the little girl to buy a doll or anything she fancied, but she politely made some utterance which I did not understand. The receptionist interpreted: “She thanks you very much and says you are our guest.”
“For me this was just another working visit. But that little Japanese girl’s behaviour spoke beautifully for the whole Japanese nation”, said my father.
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