Cherry Blossoms
A young American woman of 18 years old was walking down the pathway, enjoying the serenity, the tranquility, the peace. Not far behind her was a young samurai, who silently follows the woman in her walk to the cherry blossoms at his father’s home. The woman is dressed in a black and emerald green kimono and her medium brown hair bound by a leather throng; she looked like an angel in his eyes.
She turned right and arrived at the gardens where the most gracious and most gentle flower, the cherry blossom, resided. With her mouth opened in awe and her eyes twinkled like that of a child’s at Christmas time, she admires the beautiful flower from where she stood. She does become aware that the young samurai is standing behind her until she jumped at him speaking to her.
“They bloom every spring. We hold a celebration for watching them bloom in the very air all around us,” he said in his native tongue.
Not knowing the language, the American looked at the samurai with confusion written on her face. Sensing her lack of knowing Japanese, he tries to explain what he just said to her in broken English. Seeing his struggle, she understood what he was talking about.
“You mean these? These bloom every spring?” she asked, using her hands and speaking slowly for him to understand her.
Nodding his head when she got it, he took her hand in his and brought her hand to the nearest blossom. It felt soft in her hand. The woman smiled then, her eyes glistering with joy and unadulterated happiness.
*From the movie The Last Samurai*