The first is dedicated to the Reverend Yoshitaka Tamai who lived from 1900 to 1983,
devoting 53 years of his life to meeting the spiritual, cultural and social needs of his followers in eight Western states. The kindness and compassion of the “gentle priest,” as he was called, touched thousands.
His reflections on life include this observation: “The highest life is when everything results in a feeling of gratitude.” And the injunction to: “Discard our egotistical heart and replace it with the mind of faith.”
The second memorial recalls the life of Minoru Yasui, and “American with uncommon courage.” Mr. Yasui spent nine months in solitary confinement to test the U.S. government’s authority to discriminate against Americans of Japanese ancestry on the basis of race, an authority which the Supreme Court upheld. Freedoms were suspended and the incarcerations ratified. Yet Mr Yasui and others were ultimately vindicated many years later by the 100th Congress and through presidential apology.
Mr. Yasui dedicated his life to advancing human rights, his message now literally carved in stone: “We are all put on this earth to leave it a better place for our having been here…” The final tribute is dedicated to Ralph Carr, former governor of Colorado from 1939 to 1943. He is celebrated here for his “wisdom and courage to speak out on behalf of the persecuted Japanese American minority” during this difficult period. He welcomed thousands of American Japanese to Colorado, soliciting their help with the state’s war effort. And here they came, seeking freedom and refuge from the panic and hostility that gripped World War II America.
Governor Carr’s moral courage and humanity probably cost him his political future, but yet he took a stand: “They are loyal Americans, sharing only race with the enemy.” These were all wonderful insights and reminded me how living a life of service and dedication can provide meaning in one’s life. But then I followed a rise in the garden to a little hill, and read the placard there. This touched me the most, and was the capstone of my unplanned visit: “Compassion is to live the life of love, empathy, understanding and gratitude of all things, and give selflessly of one’s self for the happiness of all beings.”
There it was, the very essence of the Square’s message. I mused on this thought for a while, and wondered why so many of us never seem to learn that simple message. Do you suppose it’s because we are all so busy? There are certainly many other things we do that can get in the way. Is it simply that our natural inclination is not to live such a life? Or do we simply not care? For some I’m sure it would make no difference at all: they probably wonder why it’s even worth discussing. But as I stood there in the Japanese garden I became more convinced that here was at least one road to happiness, if not the road. And through the memorials it became clearer that is we ever want to improve life, we had better do something about it.
I’ve long felt that quite possibly the worst personal tragedy one could ever experience is living life, then leaving it without having made some kind of positive impact. And now here were three examples right in front of me that evidenced the point; these men made a difference. I pondered the thought that, even if it feels like our humble efforts are insignificant, it’s also clear that postulating all day gets us absolutely nowhere. It’s doing something, like these men did, that makes a difference.
At that moment, I reaffirmed my resolve that here and now, I will make a difference. My life will have meaning, because I will make it so.