Sanuki no Suke’s Diary Volume 2 (5)

 

     On the 19th, while I was planning to offer my prayers at the Horikawain Residence as was my custom, heavy snow began to fall during the night. With only a few days remaining to prepare for my move to the Imperial Palace, everyone around me was so preoccupied that they had no time to listen to me, day or night. As it was the 19th—the monthly memorial day of the late Emperor’s passing—I felt it would be a profound regret to miss my visit simply because of my own busyness. Yet, when I moved to depart, no one would support me.

     "Why must you add to this chaos?" they argued. "Even if you were to go today, surely neither the Retired Emperor nor the Minister of the Interior would be particularly impressed. There is no harm in staying behind. The snow is so thick you can barely discern the road. You may be sheltered within your carriage, but how are your attendants expected to endure such conditions?"

     They tried to block my way, their voices tinged with annoyance. But I thought to myself: If my visit were merely for the sake of appearances, that would be one thing. But to neglect my duty this month, simply because I am busy, would be unthinkable.

     I turned to them and said, "Will the joyous preparations you so eagerly attend to truly be hindered by this? If you have even a fraction of pity for me, please, let me pay my respects just for today."

     Seeing, perhaps, the resolve in my face, those who had tried to stop me finally relented. "It is not right to interfere with something she feels so deeply," they said, and ordered the carriage to be brought round and the attendants summoned. As the sun rose higher, the hour for the service drew near. I was sick with the thought that I might miss it. At last, the attendants arrived, and as people urged me to hurry, I climbed into the carriage with a light heart.

     The snow along the way was almost unbearable in its intensity. It drifted into the carriage, and the servants and an ox-driver soon had their heads completely dusted in white. The snow piled so high on the ox’s back that they were transformed into a white ox. On Nijo Avenue, the blizzard was so blinding that the path to the Horikawain Residence had vanished from sight.

     When we finally arrived, the people there were deeply moved. "What a remarkable visit!" they exclaimed. "It must have been an arduous journey. We were just saying, 'She surely cannot come today,' and 'It is only natural, given how busy she must be.' To have shown such extraordinary devotion today is truly touching."

     Thus, the month of November slipped away all too soon.