June 18 - "Eat your rice, Jimmy," my Dad said as the battle of wills at dinner began again. As a small boy, I disliked many foods. Sometimes the only things I wanted to eat were salad and perhaps some fresh fruit. My father always said that no matter what we liked or didn't like, we must eat at least two bites of everything my mother prepared before we could leave the table. This rule affected me more than my more adventuresome sisters. When I was about 6 years old, and once again the last child left at the table staring at my plate, I thought that Dad's rule was simply ridiculous.

That night, I must have been particularly stubborn, but my patient father did not give up trying to coax me to eat the two morsels of rice from my plate. Dad never got angry and he never used coercion. Instead, that night he tried to reason with me. He told me that little boys in Japan ate rice every day. Therefore, if I grew up not liking rice, then I might go hungry when I visited Japan. I remember quite distinctly that I found his logic completely unpersuasive. "I am never going to Japan," I thought miserably, "so why does he make me eat this rice?" By then, the rice had become cold.

Years later when I was living in Japan enjoying a wonderful Japanese meal complete with a delicious bowl of steaming white rice, this scene from my childhood suddenly came to mind. My father was so kind, patient and wise. He taught me so much. Happy Father's Day, Dad. Although we live far apart, I think I will eat a bowl of rice tonight to celebrate.

Until next time,

Jim