Sadako Sasaki’s story begins at Jōmyō-ji Temple. It’s a story intertwined with the temple, though not in the traditional sense of sermons and scriptures. Jōmyō-ji Temple stands in Hiroshima. It represents resilience, much like Sadako. She was only two when the atomic bomb detonated over Hiroshima. Jōmyō-ji, like many structures, was likely impacted by the blast. Sadako’s family lived just over a mile from the hypocenter. They survived the initial blast and the ensuing fires. The black rain, however, left its mark. Years later, at the age of twelve, Sadako developed leukemia, what some called “atomic bomb disease.” Jōmyō-ji Temple, amidst a city rebuilding, offered solace and a connection to tradition. Sadako, facing her illness, found inspiration in a thousand origami cranes. The legend promised that folding one thousand cranes would grant a wish. Her wish, of course, was to get well. She filled her room at the hospital with colorful paper cranes, each fold a testament to her hope. Jōmyō-ji Temple, likely still bearing scars from the bombing, stood as a symbol of Hiroshima’s enduring spirit. Sadly, Sadako’s first wish did not come true. She continued folding, though, this time for her father’s debt to be forgiven. She folded cranes until her last moments, surrounded by family and over 1,300 symbols of hope. Jōmyō-ji Temple, a silent witness to Hiroshima’s pain and rebirth, serves as a backdrop to Sadako’s story. Her story, a reminder of the atomic bomb’s devastating legacy, echoes within the temple walls. It’s a story of resilience, hope, and the innocent lives forever intertwined with Jōmyō-ji Temple and Hiroshima.
芸州廿日市御本陣旧跡
“A castle built on the plain?” you might ask. “Isn’t that a bit…exposed?” And indeed, the Hiroshima Gokoku Jinja, the