hope for best, prayers for worst

My imagination often zooms ahead of reality when I ponder disastrous life scenarios. Yet I doubt I can summon mind pictures adequate to what's happening in parts of Japan. This morning I thought about people we've known from that country who've stayed in our home and tried partaking of our culture and language.

I wonder how Hiroe is doing. She was from Kakegawa in western Shizuoka Prefecture when she came to visit during August 2001. She brought us a set of cups we still use and a delicate paper balloon. She was seventeen, learning to drive, embarking on life in new ways. We took her to the coast and a Japanese restaurant, and she spoke in her own tongue with our daughter's good friend, Barbi.

She was barely back home when 9/11 happened in New York, and she emailed her concern for us. I wish I still had the means to get in touch with her.

A few summers later, Taichi visited for nearly a week. We drove him to Crater Lake and McKenzie Pass. He almost passed out from lack of foods he could eat, till I made sure to stock enough carrots, apples, and trail mix for him. He was quiet and polite and very interested in philosophy and theology. At our church, he pored over the hymnal, fascinated by "gospel songs."

He lived in or near Tokyo, and I imagine he's been through some stuff this past week. I wish everyone over there the best, especially our friend Barbi, who's now living near Hiroshima. She has posted on Facebook that she's fine, high above tsunami lines and in a sheltered area.

I know the Japanese people have prepared for these eventualities, better than we have in big-earthquake-overdue Oregon. And yet they are suffering. Because we never know. Because reality brings dark days.

May their beauty and culture survive. May the people find hope as they reach for help in this worst of moments.