Tuesday, September 16, 1969
I have not much chance to think about why I came to America or why I became a priest, but today when—while I was talking with Peter about something—my personal history—I had to think about, you know, why I came to America. And right now, I am thinking about why I became a priest [laughs].
My father was a priest, and his temple was quite—not small, but very poor temple. We haven’t not—we had very difficult time, even though he—my father wanted to give me some better clothing, he—he haven’t—he hasn’t—he hadn’t not much money.
I know—I remember his father was making candle. When I came to America, you know, sometime I made a candle by the left-over candle, you know, with left-over candle. It is pretty, you know—usually no one make candle, you know, to sell, but he—he made a lot of—he was making a lot of candle with iron, you know, he made himself some—something to make candle, and he sold it—not near my temple, but he went [to] Ōiso City, maybe four, five miles from my temple.
And I think that was the time when my father [was] expelled from [laughs] another temple and came to that temple. I can imagine how poor we are by that—only by that story. So even children wear hakama. Do you know hakama?  A kind of skirt—skirt-like—ceremonial, you know. When we have celebration we would wear hakama.
But I haven’t any hakama, so I have to—I would attend the ceremony at—in my school without hakama, and I was, you know, very much—I didn’t feel so good, you know, because I had no hakama to wear. But somehow he bought hakama and gave it to me to wear for the ceremony. And he, you know, gave [me] the hakama, and—and I—when I wear that hakama in the—as my friend did, my father said: “That is not the right—correct way to wear it. You should wear like this, and you should tie hakama this way,” you know. [Sounds like he is gesturing.] No one tie hakama at that time in that way. Maybe that is too formal [laughs].