Sara Udon Made Only of Cabbage Cores: The Story That Keeps Me Going

This is
a story about a small family in a single-mother household.

A mother and her two sons.

Eating out as a family of three
happened maybe once a year, if that.

We didn't have a car.

That day, too, the three of us
pedaled our bicycles toward the diner.

Thinking back on it now,
the distance from our house to that diner
must have been nearly 10 kilometers.

My older brother was in the lead.
Behind him was my younger brother.
And bringing up the rear,
my mother followed, watching over us.

Eventually, we arrived at the diner.

As we went to park our bikes,
next to the shop
there were many bicycles lined up.

It was a small diner
where the locals gathered.

When we slid open the door,
the inside was packed with customers.

The shop was bustling with noise.

In the middle of it all,
we saw one small table
that looked like it could seat the three of us.

We managed to sit there.

Once we were seated, my mother said,

"You can order whatever you like."

My brother and I
didn't even need to think about it.

Beef bowls.

We almost never ate beef
at home.

Beef was
a significant luxury
for us brothers.

My mother looked at the menu for a moment and
ordered the crispy noodles.

Since my mother loved vegetables,
it might have been because she saw the crispy noodles
topped with lots of vegetables on the menu.

The restaurant was busy,
and it took quite a long time
for our food to arrive.

What was brought out first
was my brother's beef bowl.

A beef bowl with an egg yolk sitting in the center.

My mother said,

"You can go ahead and eat."

My brother and I looked at each other.

There was no conversation.

We picked up some old manga books left in the restaurant
and waited silently for my mother's crispy noodles to arrive.

Eventually, the crispy noodles were brought over.

"Itadakimasu!"
My brother and I said in unison.
The three of us started eating together as a family.

My brother and I were absorbed
in stuffing our faces with the beef bowl.

I don't remember
how much time had passed.

After a while,
I heard a small voice.

It was my mother's voice.

"It's nothing but vegetable cores..."

When I looked at her plate, it really was
nothing but cabbage cores.

My mother
was eating them
with a slightly lonely expression.

When we finished eating
and the three of us left the restaurant,
my mother said.

Did you both enjoy it?

To the two brothers who answered that it was delicious,

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

At that time, the brothers did not understand how their mother felt when she said that.

Even so, their mother said,

Only vegetable cores...

She said that in a small voice.

That was the last time the three of them ate out together as a family.

At that time, my younger brother was still in his teens.

That day, at that time, in that place, my younger brother was eating a beef bowl with all his might.

Yes,

It was me.

Even now, I vividly remember that day.

I remember how hard my mother worked every day, too.

The scene of that day, and that Sara Udon.

And now, I work at a supermarket.

Every day, I see prepared foods and ingredients lined up on the sales floor.

Beyond the people who buy them and take them home, there is surely someone's dining table. It might be some kind of anniversary.

It might be family. It might be children. It might be someone precious.

Take responsibility for what ends up on the dinner table.

This is
the story that keeps me moving.

Nothing but vegetable cores...

A story I remember on Mother's Day.

50 yen...

*This story is based on my own personal experience.
Please refrain from unauthorized reproduction or use.