Editor’s note: This is an excerpt from the May 2003 issue of the Buddhist Wheel

Throughout Hawaii, Buddhist sanghas celebrated the birth of the Buddha in April. As I faced the altar in gassho, sadness filled my heart that on Buddha Day, humanity was once again at war. I wept to think that man, who has the intellect to develop the most efficient war machines, has not developed within his heart and mind the way to bring peace to all people.

I recalled sixty-one years ago when the FBI rounded up Japanese priests and community leaders of Japanese organizations, placing them in high security internment centers. My parents lost everything. Forced out of the West Coast, my parents packed two suitcases and, with 3 small children, left with nothing more. By rail we went to an assembly center, a racetrack whose horse stalls became sleeping quarters furnished only with straw-filled mattresses. Eating, bathing and even toilet facilities were without privacy; everything was communal, fenced in with barbed wire.

From this assembly center, we moved to the desert. Four families lived in a long wooden barrack partitioned with thin walls open across the top. This barrack was home until the war ended.

After the 9/11 attack, the federal government rounded up Middle Eastern people considered dangerous and placed them in high security internment camps. Under the guise of security, were Middle Eastern Americans denied their inalienable rights?”

Upon these recollections, I could not help but ask, “Are we again repeating the errors of that war? Our leaders seem to have forgotten the lessons of the past. As I saw what was happening, I believed I should stand up to be counted as one who believed in peaceful means in solving the problems between people and nations. And so it came to be that I joined and stood with the people of this community at a peace rally.

In the Shoshinge, Shinran writes, “Sakyamuni Tathagata appeared in this world,/ Solely to teach the ocean like Primal Vow of Amida; /We, an ocean of beings in an evil age of five defilements, should entrust ourselves to the Tathagata’s words of truth.”

These words reminded me how the Primal Vow of Amida brought peace to the lives of the Issei during incarceration in internment camps. Although the camps were not as horrific as Auschwitz or the conditions Iraquis are faced with now, I cannot help but reflect on how my parents in that time of instant changes and losses survived without going into depression or losing their minds. Most people would become depressed, express anger, or perhaps weep, but many Issei lived through these times the best they could. In their hearts, they must have had uncertainties, yet they lived each day unafraid, feeling that everything would be all right.

Whenever we moved after the war, my mother reminded us that home is where one’s heart is. Her words helped us to live in places many would not consider a home. We even lived in an old granary, shared a home with another family, and lived in a tilting house. After five years of hard work, my parents bought a home. For them, with the arrival of the obutsudan from Japan, the home was complete. The family altar was the physical presence of the spirit of gassho that had sustained us throughout the difficulties during and after the war.

Many Issei parents did not say, “Shikataganai, we can’t do anything.” They did not give up living. They accepted the conditions and lived the best they could. Their hearts were at peace in the most difficult of times. They lived with the warmth of the spirit of gassho in their lives.

Let us remember to offer a heart filled with gassho, the heart of Namo Amida Butsu. Peace begins with each person expressing respect, reverence and loving kindness to others. Let us share this Buddhist pathway with all who seek peace.

Visit our downloads section to get the complete issue.