It was 1911(Meiji 44) and I was thirty years old. Although I considered job prospects for my husband from many angles, a naval officer who chose to retire from the navy without re-enlisting, a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, no matter what I said, nobody in the countryside wanted to hire him.

It was obvious to us that we wouldn’t be able to give my mother and our eldest son a comfortable life with only the meager military pension that my husband received. After deep consideration, I decided to go to Tokyo to find a job. In this desperate situation, I would support the lives of our four family members by running a boarding house. I made the decision and talked it over with my mother. With a bitter face, she said to me, “Go your way as you like after I’m gone. But, while I live, I would like you to live in your hometown. Life in Sakurai Village is difficult, but if we go to Anjo, you’ll find the modern conveniences of city living. Why don’t we move our home there?” she asked. I couldn’t say no to my aged mother’s earnest wish.

Soon after my mother moved from her two-storey house of about 25 tsubo(82.64m²) in Sakurai to a 300 tsubo(991.74m²) piece of farmland in Asahi-machi in Anjo Town. This was the beginning of the story related directly to Anjo.