Mr. Bamboo and the Honorable Little God | Page 3

of kindergarten
room. A feel of anxious press' hard. First we have grand parade, and
that little soldier boy in blue in front of all children have atmosphere
same he was marching before emperor. My keen of eye see all time he
have fight with swallow in his throat. After march come song 'bout
cradle and star, but big cough catch Tãke Chan in middle, and when the
strangle had left and tears of hot had wipe way, he heard childrens
saying amen to prayer. His red lip have little shake, for he have great
pride to say that prayer faster than any childs. He have hospitable of
soul, too. But Tãke Chan son of great general of war, and he never cry,
even though much disappoint' come to his mind. I was hunting speech
to give him the comfort of heart when children give sound with mouth
like storm breeze hurrying through leaves. I look. Where door of other
room always lived was most beautiful Christmas-tree of any world, all
light with flaming candles and gold and silver balls. On very tip-most
top the lovely big surprise from foreign country. It wore dress of
spangly stars and white. Big brown eyes and hair like rice-straw when
sun shines through it. It held out welcome arms. Every move of tree
give sway to body. I know trulier, but surely, it have look of real life.
Teacher rolled tree to middle of room in bare spot, which made glad to
have it. Children laughed and clapped hands happy of that day, and call'
many funny sayings. I forget the anxious in my happy of that day, and
turn with glad eye on Tãke Chan. Bamboo boy. Never I see such
wonderful thing as the glory. First he see only it, and give low tight
whisper, "The Offering." His eye fly to tip of top. He lean' way over
like his body break with eager. Joyful speech come with long sigh,
"Ah--the guest he is come!" For one minute room very still, and just
same as fairy give him enchantment Tãke Chan rose from floor till he
come right under tree. Other childrens make such merries. They have
thought it play. But all sounds and peoples passes away from my vision.

Nothing left but picture of one small blue soldier looking up through
blazon flames of Christmas-tree to shining thing above. His cheeks so
full of red with fighting cough, eyes so bright with wet of tears, he fold
his hands for prayer, and soft like pigeon talking with mate he speak:
"O most Honorable Little God! How splendid! You are real; come live
with me. In my garden I am a soldier; I'll show you the dragon-flies and
the river. Please will you come?" My heart have pause of beat. I think
fever give Tãke Chan's mind delirious. Quick I uncement my feet from
floor to go to him. "Tahke Chan," I say with lovely voice, "that is not a
God nor even image. Listen: it's only a big foreign doll which postman
bring this morning as great surprise from America. Teacher put it up
high so all childs could see it. Look what kindergarten give you--most
beautiful kite, like dragon-fly you love more better. Come rest in your
chair. We sing."
Ah, that little play soldier! Door of his ear all shut to my every speak of
love. He just stand with eyes uplift' and plead: "Please come play with
me. I know your song 'bout cradle and star. And I can march. See." But
his body rock from each side to other. Then I press my arms round and
whisper with much tender: "I bring doll home with you." He look 'way
up high on Christmas-tree, then he leave his conscious in kindergarten
room.
Me and two soldier servants convey Tãke Chan and foreign doll to his
home. I stay in honorable house with them. One day go by, and 'nother
night come. Sick boy's mama have look of ivory lady as she rest her
tired, and maid girl make tea. I watch by side of bed on floor. Big ache
in heart clutch' me when I look round room and see blue soldier's suit
hang' near. It have look of empty and lonely, dragon-fly kite in corner
have broken wing. But when I bring gaze back Tãke Chan, loveliest
sight of all visit me. That little child reach out and find hand of foreign
doll. He hold very tight, and give it look of love. Such heaven light
come on his face! I suspend my breath and listen to his low speech
which come in broken pieces: "You are my Tomidachi. Do not go; I
soon be well I come play in your garden. Dragon-flies--cradle--star--Ah,
Little God--you grow so