What happens if you make 1000 paper cranes? Hiroshima cranes. What happened next

I returned to work after vacation. There is a stack of square pink leaves on the table.

Yours? - I ask the boss - he sits on the left and clicks on the keyboard.
“This is for you,” he says, without looking up from the computer. - You will make origami.
- I missed you too. But seriously?

Our boss is a joker. Not a day goes by without his sparkling pearls.
This is exactly what he sees everywhere.

Cranes. A thousand cranes.

Ten days without Japanese, changing time zones - the convolutions gnashed and gnashed, but did not grind.

A thousand cranes? Should I make a thousand cranes?

Make about fifty of them. Until Wednesday evening. OK? - the morning meeting begins, and I try to pick up my jaw.
A jaw is needed in order to cheerfully pronounce corporate mottos - or rather, not even mottos, but 12, let's say,
theses of the company founder. I learned it by heart.

The morning planning meeting has passed and the video conference has ended. The pink leaves completely flew out of my head.

Will you have time to make cranes? asks a colleague over lunch. - I've been riveting them for a week now - there's no end in sight. And you only have three days...

Speaking of cranes... Why should we suddenly fold them?

It turned out that C, one of our employees, had a mother in the hospital.
Paper cranes are an expression of support and wishes for a speedy recovery.
The required thousand was divided equally among everyone - that’s how pink leaves ended up on my table.

Why exactly cranes and why so many?

I’ll tell you briefly the story of Sadako Sasaki, a girl whose name is known to all Japanese.

Sadako was born in Hiroshima in 1943. During the atomic bombing on August 6, 1945, she was at home - just one and a half kilometers from the epicenter of the explosion. Sadako survived the bombing, but ten years later she was diagnosed with leukemia. Sadako began to fade away. She was admitted to the hospital. The father told his daughter a legend: a man who folds a thousand cranes can make a wish, and it will definitely come true. The girl began making cranes from any scraps of paper she could get her hands on. The disease progressed rapidly, and in October 1955 Sadako passed away. According to one version, she managed to fold only 644 cranes, and the missing ones were made by friends. According to another, Sadako left behind 1,300 cranes. Be that as it may, Sadako was buried along with the paper cranes, and in 1958 a monument was erected to her in Hiroshima. To this day, schoolchildren carry paper cranes to the memorial. Often the whole class makes cranes, fastens them on a string and hangs a crane garland at the memorial.
At the end of the working day, I sat down to rivet cranes. At eight, when the ranks of office warriors had thinned noticeably,
A Korean colleague from another department approached the table.

Just don’t say that you were forced to sit until the night and get creative! Oh, these Japanese companies!

I didn’t even notice how more than two hours flew by.
- Don't worry, everything is under control. I'll go home soon.

I didn't want to go home. I wanted to fold cranes.
Because it was important.
It is important for me.
It is important on that day - June 24th.

Exactly sixteen years ago my grandmother died.

I folded crane after crane and kept thinking whether she would have recovered if then, sixteen years ago,
I brought a thousand cranes to the hospital?

More than anything, I wanted Mom C to see our cranes and get better.

Yesterday at lunch I folded the last crane and released the pink flock into a box - there were red, blue, green, purple and light blue birds waiting for them. Tomorrow the crane garland will be sent to the hospital.

Today I kept glancing sideways at the box of cranes, and my thoughts took me to the paper sparrows. They were made day by day by Kira, the main character of my novel “Prisoners of the Bird Tower”. Those who have read will probably remember, those who have not read, my warm recommendations. You can read it, for example, on Bookmate.

People asked me everything after the book came out, but they never asked me about paper sparrows.
I'll tell you myself. Sparrows are important.

Let me remind you that the novel describes only one day - June 23, 2017. Day of loss. The loss is sobering.
Day of deliverance.

A reference to the legend of a thousand cranes can be found in the last chapter.

"I thought about the Nightingale Man as I held the square of paper in my hands. Every time I had lunch I would fold origami. In the bottom drawer of my desk, behind a plastic helmet, I kept a box where various little sparrows lived. Why was I doing this? Don't know. It calmed me down. It seemed to me that if I folded a couple thousand paper sparrows, I could escape from the Bird Tower."

Towards the end of the final scene, the origami sparrows appear again.

***

- I will never become a salariman.

- What do you mean you won’t? If you put in enough effort, you can turn anyone into a real salariman. I will make a salariman out of you. If I said I would,So I'll do it. Let it take years, many years.

“I’m not going to become a real salariman, Saito-san.” - I put the box with sparrows in my bag. -Thanks for your efforts. Let me take my leave.

I took one last look at the three-domed Park Hyattcutting through the darkness outside the window. There Charlotte tried to find herself, and Bob tried to find himself again. I found myself. I found myself again. The Bird Tower killed the Nightingale Man, but it made me stronger.

The wind tore the umbrella out of his hands, the shoes squelched, scooping up the water. Stopping at an intersection, I pulled off my nylon knee socks and put them in my jacket pocket. The black robe was too heavy - so heavy, as if it had absorbed all my tears. I threw my jacket on the asphalt next to Roy Lichtenstein's Tokyo Paintbrushes sculpture. It's time to add some color to your life. It's time to let the paper sparrows go. I placed the box under the sculpture, covered it with an umbrella and opened the lid:

- Fly, my dears. Fly. Fly according to your heart and never get caught in the net.

The endless puddle reflected the lights of signs swaying in the wind. I was reflected in the puddle. The rain washed away the taint of salarimanism from me.

***

In the novel, the appearance of a box with origami sparrows symbolizes the imminent deliverance from slavery in a black enterprise.

Escaping from the office, Kira takes the box with her and places it under the sculpture to honor the memory of the Nightingale Man. She doesn't know his real name or where he will be buried. She doesn't even know if he will be buried at all. She knows almost nothing about him - only that he had a bag the color of a Siberian sunset hanging over his shoulder, that he smoked Marlboro Ultra-Lite and lived on the same subway line. And she also knows that his sacrifice was not in vain, because only after losing the Nightingale Man did Kira realize that she had “played enough of the salarimans.” By sacrificing himself, he saved at least one life. Her life.

Kira places a box of sparrows under Roy Lichtenschein's "Tokyo Brushes" sculpture - the most striking structure in the area, representing life outside of strict corporate norms.

Origami really is calming, regardless of whether you fold cranes or sparrows.
For those who want to check whether the ancient legend is true, the diagram will help.

She passed away 10 years before I was born. A gentle, fragile little girl from Japan named Sadako Sasaki. And I didn't know her.

And another 10 years after my birth, on the pages of a 4th grade history textbook, I read about the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and about the first atomic bombs in human history that were dropped on these cities. But I didn’t yet know that these bombs had such cute and kind names “Baby” and “Fat Man”.

One moment - a nuclear mushroom...

One moment - 70 thousand ruined lives...

One moment and a two-year-old girla little closer than two kilometers from the place where the nuclear explosion occurred.

At that time, no one knew anything about radiation sickness and its consequences. The world later learned this terrible truth and froze in horror and sorrow...

At the age of twelve, cheerful and nimble Sadako went to school, studied and played like all children.

But one day she fell and could not get up immediately. The diagnosis is blood cancer. And with it the terrible word “death”. But she desperately wanted to live and she foughta tender, fragile little girl from Japan named Sadako Sasaki.

She was in the hospital when her best friend cameChizukoand brought with her special paper from which she made a crane, and told Sadako one legend: the crane, which in Japan is considered a lucky bird, lives for a thousand years; If a sick person makes a thousand cranes out of paper, he will recover.

This legend goes back to the Middle Ages, when it became popular among the nobility to make messages in the form of folded paper figures (“origami”). One of the simplest figures was precisely the “tsuru” - a crane (only 12 operations were required to fold it).

In those days in Japan, the crane symbolized happiness and longevity. This is where the belief arose - if you make a wish and add a thousand “tsuru”, it will definitely come true.

Sadako believed in the legend, as any of us, who wanted to live with all our being, probably would have believed. It was Chizuko who made the first crane for Sadako.

A thousand cranes are a thousand pieces of paper. Sadako decided to make a thousand cranes, but due to her illness she was very tired and could not work.

As soon as she felt better, she folded small cranes out of white paper.

There are two legends that tell of Sadako's courage.

The girl managed to make a thousand cranes, but the disease continued to worsen. Relatives and friends supported her as best they could. And then, instead of giving up in the face of mortal misfortune or simply being disappointed, she began to make new cranes. There were many more than a thousand of them. People were amazed at her courage and patience.

And according to another legend - despite the fact that she had enough time to fold cranes, she did not have enough material - paper, she used any suitable piece of paper that she managed to get from nurses and patients from other wards, but was able to make only 644 cranes and therefore friends completed the cranes after her death.

Sadako died on October 25, 1955, and many more than a thousand paper cranes flew to her funeral. Thousands of cranes connected by invisible threads.

The courageous little girl Sadako Sasaki became a symbol of rejection of nuclear war, a symbol of protest against war. Inspired by her courage and willpower, Sadako's friends and classmates published her letters. They began planning to build a monument in memory of Sadako and all the other children who died from the atomic bombing.

Young people from all over Japan began to raise funds for this project. In 1958, a statue depicting Sadako holding a paper crane was erected in the Peace Park in Hiroshima. On the pedestal of the statue it is written:“This is our cry! This is our prayer! World peace!.."

And in Japan there is a tradition of launching paper lanterns into the water in memory of those who passed away from life.

This story happened in 1945, when the first atomic bomb in human history was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. Together with half a million of its other inhabitants, the family of the Japanese girl Sadako Sasaki, who was then two years old, also had to endure this misfortune. The city burned and was destroyed to the ground. Sadako was then a little closer than two kilometers from the place where the nuclear explosion occurred, but did not receive any burns or other visible injuries.

A few weeks later, the surviving residents of the city began to die from a terrible, incomprehensible disease. Their strength suddenly left them, they weakened and their soul left their body... Little Sadako’s mother hugged her own daughter, stroked her head and for a long time, silently, watched her play. She never once revealed her anxiety to the child...

At the age of twelve, cheerful and nimble Sadako went to school, studied and played like all children. She loved to run, most of all she loved movement.

Terrible diagnosis

She began to show signs of radiation sickness in November 1954. One day, while participating in a school relay race, after running the girl felt very tired and dizzy. She tried to forget about what happened, but the attacks of dizziness recurred, especially if she tried to run. She didn't tell anyone about this, not even her best friend. Only the mother and the female neighbors who had children suspected something was wrong; each heart sank with unkind thoughts.

One day she fell and could not get up immediately. Sadako was taken to the Red Cross hospital for testing and it became clear that she had leukemia (blood cancer). At that time, many of the girl’s peers were suffering from leukemia and dying. Sadako was scared, she didn’t want to die.

1000 paper cranes

She was lying in the hospital when Chizuko's best friend came and brought with her special paper from which she made a crane, and told Sadako one legend: the crane, which in Japan is considered a lucky bird, lives for a thousand years; If a sick person makes a thousand cranes out of paper, he will recover.

This legend goes back to the Japanese Middle Ages, when it became popular among the nobility to make messages in the form of folded paper figures (“origami”). One of the simplest figures was precisely the “tsuru” - a crane (it required only 12 operations to fold it). In those days in Japan, the crane symbolized happiness and longevity. This is where the belief arose - if you make a wish and add a thousand “tsuru”, it will definitely come true.

Sadako believed in the legend, as any of us, who wanted to live with all our being, probably would have believed. It was Chizuko who made the first crane for Sadako.

A thousand cranes are a thousand pieces of paper. Sadako decided to make a thousand cranes, but due to her illness she was very tired and could not work. As soon as she felt better, she folded small cranes out of white paper.

According to one version of history- the girl managed to make a thousand cranes, but the disease continued to worsen. Relatives and friends supported her as best they could. And then, instead of giving up in the face of mortal misfortune, or simply being disappointed, she began to make new cranes. There were many more than a thousand of them. People were amazed by her courage and patience.

According to another version- despite the fact that she had enough time to fold cranes, she did not have enough material - paper, she used any suitable piece of paper that she managed to get from nurses and patients from other wards, but she was able to make only 644 cranes and so her friends completed the cranes after her death.

Sadako died on October 25, 1955, and many more than a thousand paper cranes flew to her funeral. Thousands of cranes connected by invisible threads.

Memory of Sadako

The courageous little girl Sadako Sasaki became a symbol of rejection of nuclear war, a symbol of protest against war. Inspired by her courage and willpower, Sadako's friends and classmates published her letters. They began planning to build a monument in memory of Sadako and all the other children who died from the atomic bombing. Young people from all over Japan began to raise funds for this project. In 1958, a statue depicting Sadako holding a paper crane was erected in the Peace Park in Hiroshima. On the pedestal of the statue it is written:

“This is our cry, This is our prayer, World peace.”

There is also a statue of Sadako in Peace Park in Seattle, USA. The life-size statue also depicts a girl holding a paper crane. On the pedestal it is written:

SADAKO SASAKI
PEACE CHILD
SHE GAVE US THE PAPER CRANE
TO SYMBOLIZE OUR YEARNING FOR
PEACE IN THE WORLD.

(Sadako Sasaki. Child of Peace. She gave us a paper crane, symbolizing our desire for world peace)

The Sadako Peace Garden was opened on August 6, 1995, on the 50th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and named after Sadako Sasaki. On June 30, 2002, the park entered the Gardens of the World network. The garden is located at La Casa Maria Retreat Center in Santa Barbara, California, USA. Created by Isabel Green and Irma Kavat as a garden for reflection and inspiration. Project of Nuclear Age Peace Foundation and La Casa de Maria. In the depths of the garden there are stones on which cranes are carved.

On October 26, 2000, a monument to the Paper Crane was unveiled by the Nobori-cho Municipal Youth High School Student Association. The words “Prayers of the paper cranes here” are carved on the pedestal of the monument.

Sadako Sasaki in creativity

The tragic fate of Sadako Sasaki served as the basis for the plot of the feature film “Hello, Children!”, filmed in 1962 at the film studio named after. M. Gorky (dir. Mark Donskoy).

In 1969, the famous poet Rasul Gamzatov, inspired by the story of Sadako, wrote one of his most famous poems, “Cranes,” which became the text for the famous song of the same name.

Children's books, comics, films and cartoons were made about Sadako, and music was written.

The most famous of the books is the book by Eleanor Coerr “Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes” (English “Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes”) published in 1977 and was published in 18 countries. A film was made based on the book in the USA.

The theme of collecting a thousand paper cranes to make a wish come true was used in episode 11 of the second season of the anime Ghost in the Shell: Loner Syndrome.

In the anime "Children's Time", the main character collects a thousand cranes so that her mother does not die of cancer.

Sadako Sasaki is a Japanese girl, a resident of Hiroshima, who survived the atomic bombing. In 1955, 12-year-old Sadako died from the effects of radiation exposure.

Sadako Sasaki was born in 1943, at the height of World War II, in the Japanese city of Hiroshima (Hiroshima, Japan). When an atomic explosion thundered over the skies of Hiroshima in 1945, the Sasaki family lived less than two kilometers from the epicenter. Baby Sadako was then thrown out of the window by the blast wave, and when the mother, shaking with fear, ran out, no longer hoping to see her daughter alive, it turned out that the girl was scared, but was not hurt at all. However, as time has shown, by definition there could have been no casualties in that area.

Years passed, Sadako grew up as a cheerful and active girl, went to school, and sometimes her mother really began to believe that that terrible explosion was just a memory. But at the age of 12, Sadako’s first symptoms appeared - ominous tumors appeared on her neck and behind her ears. This was the beginning of the end, and all the adult residents who survived the explosion in Hiroshima understood this. Once lively and restless, Sadako began to tire quickly, and one day during a school relay race she fell and was unable to get up.

The girl ended up in the hospital on February 21, 1955 - the doctors gave her a year at most. The fact that the increasing incidence of childhood leukemia was a consequence of the atomic bomb became clear already in the early 1950s.

One day in August 1955, her best friend Chizuko Hamamoto came to Sadako’s hospital and brought origami paper with her. She showed Sadako how to fold a crane out of paper, and at the same time told a beautiful legend. Thus, the crane, which is highly revered in Japan, brings happiness and longevity. According to legend, a sick person will certainly get better if he folds a thousand cranes out of paper.

And Sadako got to work. At first she didn't know that she wouldn't have enough time, because she was still a child. She firmly believed in both the wonderful fairy tale and the possibility of her miraculous healing, which, as it seemed to her, was now completely in her hands.

The girl was sorely short of paper - she folded her cranes from all the paper she could find in the hospital. But over time, weakening, Sadako did less and less cranes - the illness made itself felt, she quickly got tired...

Best of the day

After her death, the girl’s relatives and friends all together completed her wonderful undertaking - a thousand paper cranes.

There is another version of what happened, according to which Sadako had enough time, and she folded her thousand cranes, but, to the girl’s great disappointment, the insidious disease did not recede. Relatives supported Sadako and her faith in miracles as best they could, and then she began a new countdown and began adding up another thousand.

Be that as it may, the wonderful story of a brave girl who fought for life until the very end touched the hearts of millions of people around the world.

At Sadako's funeral, thousands of paper cranes flew in the sky, and the little Japanese girl became a symbol of rejection of atomic weapons.

In 1958, a statue of Sadako Sasaki appeared in Hiroshima; it was erected with money raised throughout Japan. The stone statue stands in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, depicting a girl holding a paper crane. At the foot of the monument there is a sign with the words “This is our cry. This is our prayer. For building peace in the world” (This is our cry. This is our prayer. For peace in the world).

Later, a similar monument to a Japanese girl appeared in Peace Park in Seattle, America.

Several books have been written about young Sadako, the most famous of which is Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, published in 1977 and written by Eleanor Coerr. The book has been translated into many languages ​​and a film has been made based on it.

The paper crane is today a symbol of world peace.

in memory of Sadako Sasaki
M 24.12.2016 01:23:17

Hello!
I remember this message about the cranes of the Japanese girl Sadako Sasaki. I didn’t have time to send her a crane with good wishes, to somehow make her life easier, to make her happy, to wish her a miracle of healing.