The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1917-06-28
BUDDHA'S GIFT
BY ROSE WELLER.


Nowhere in the world does the Sum-
n his spring greeting, meet with such
Joyous response from nature as in far
away, beauty-dowered Japan.
His call to life, reached in all its
compelling sweetness, a garden in
that flowery isle, and joyously the am
cient cherry tree in the center of the
garden heard, and burst into pink
petaled splendor, redolent with deli
cate perfume, wooing bee and butter
Fly.
Under its waving branches dropped
maiden, delicately lovely as the
cherry blossoms above. Her head was
bowed, every line of her figure de-
noted detection.
Yuki Wan was sad; that morning
she had, after the japanese custom,
been promised in marriage by her
parents to man the age Of her IA
Their.
Only last year at this very season,
she had walked meath the cherry
blossoms with an English youth, the
prince of her maiden dreams; and,
even as the Suns call to sleeping ma
ture, had been the call of youth to
youth, beauty to beauty, love to love.
And now-ah, the agony of it all! The
Injustice of it! The uselessness of
it! For had she not heard that in
that other country, where he lived,
girls married for love, youth mated
with youth?
Was there no appeal from parental
authority? Must she submit to the
inevitable?
Her soul cried out in agony, Must
it be, O, Buddha, must it bel"
Ever since those dream days when
love was all, there had lain, carefully
hidden beneath the folds of her kimO-
no, a tiny, heart-shaped pendant fash
toned from sapphires and pearls, the
parting gift Of the English youth as
he had said to her: at is like the
sky and the cherry blossoms Of Japan.
Wear it until my ship sails back
again."
With one long pressure Of the locket
to her heart she clasped the memento
in her hand, and passed with falter-
ing steps out of the garden and along
a road toward the temple of Buddha.
Ascending the worn stone steps, she
made her way hesitatingly to the altar
in front of the huge stone image, tim
! idly laid her cherished pendant at its
| feet and fell on hands and knees in
supplication.
Then, with a quiveriDg sob she hur-
rledly retraced her steps.
Back in the garden Yuki Wan threw
herself desolately on the soft grass
beneath the cherry tree. Presently
she turned her face toward the
| patches of blue sky, deeply hued as
sapphires showing through the riffs
in the pink-petaled blossoms. In the
broken English she had loved to use
because it was the language of her
youthful lover, she whispered: "Ah.
| Buddha, now you more better help
me, or maybe so, wash my heart clean
from wish for love which is not for
| japanese girl"
I Then, gently, very gently, her eye.
| lids fluttered and closed, blue tints on
ivory-hued cheeks. Like a child, she
| slept.
In dream there came to Yuki Wan
| the great Buddha, no longer awesome,
but with a look of compassion and
understanding. Softly he touched her
| forehead, saying: ut is WELL"
Yuki Wan awoke, sat up and looked
about! All was the same yet not
the same. A new glory seemed to
have crept into sky and sunshine.
"Yuki Wan," came a gentle voice,
Slowly Yuki turned her head, and
there, stalwart, smiling, arms out.
stretched, stood the English boy. His
ship had sailed back again.