Remembering the stories of those who experienced war.

I recently remembered that one of my summer vacation assignments in junior high school was to write a report about the war.

I may have discarded that report at my parents' house, but hearing my grandmother talk about life during the war left a deeper impression on me than any research I did on the subject.

When the war ended,
my grandmother was in elementary school.
She is still alive today, but she has often said, "It's like heaven now."
Meaning that we have gone from a life of inconvenience to a world where everything is convenient and there is nothing we cannot obtain.I certainly agree that the modern world is convenient and overflowing with material goods.

However, if you ask me whether people have become truly wealthy, I think that is not necessarily the case for everyone.

My grandmother's family were farmers, so she said they never suffered from hunger even during the war.

They raised silkworms and made thread at home.
They learned Japanese sewing and made their own kimonos.
They grew rice.
They grew vegetables.

Times change, and I have no intention of blaming my parents, but it was a moment when I realized that the skills my grandmother possessed were lost after just one generation.
I have never even touched a silkworm, I know nothing about Japanese sewing, I have never planted rice, and I probably couldn't identify most vegetables just by looking at their leaves.
I have not inherited any of the skills my grandmother learned to survive, and I have grown into a person who must rely entirely on buying things with money.
I am truly grateful to my father for raising me without ever letting me worry about money, ensuring my income never ceased.
I am truly grateful to live with the peace of mind that comes from having a mother who always supports what I want to do and a home I can return to at any time.

However, as we become physically wealthier, we spend money to maintain that wealth, and our desire for material things increases, leading us to spend even more money.

Only in the last few years have I finally started to think that my life had become like that.

Even beyond money,
I like people
but I am also afraid of them
I have been feeling this way more often, but it was my conversations with my grandmother that pulled me back from such anxiety.
Regarding her life in the past, my grandmother said,


"We didn't have cash, but we could barter with things we produced at home to get what we needed.""Even though there were times we had to evacuate, I had my parents and siblings, and
I was blessed with connections to people."

A truly rich life—I am reflecting on my grandmother's words, wondering if this is what it means.

Since I started a home garden two years ago,
"Kale is such a hardy vegetable, resistant to both cold and heat!"
or
"So this is what mustard leaves look like—they're purple!"
Every day is filled with such small discoveries, and I look forward to planting seeds every year.

When I experimentally buried a potato I bought at the supermarket in the soil in the spring, it grew steadily by summer, and when it multiplied into nearly ten potatoes from just one, I felt a joy and excitement greater than seeing money grow through investments. (Though if I were a professional investor, I might have found excitement in money growing.)
Sharing such episodes with my family and eating the vegetables we harvested together is truly a joy.

No matter what the situation, I want to keep my heart rich.

To that end, I want to spend time on the things that are truly necessary.