"Those small white ones scare the unworthy crows away, little flower Sister," explained Tara; but the baby sister shook her head and said, "No, pretty birds!"
Umé turned the baby's head gently away from the fluttering scarecrows. "Look at the pretty flowers," she said.
Beautiful lotus blossoms were growing in the muddy ditches beside the track. The baby bobbed her head to them and begged them to stand still, but they all hurried past the hands she held out to them.
"The lotus is Buddha's flower," said O Ba San. "It grows out of the dirt and slime to give us blossoms of rare beauty. Such may be the growth of our hearts if we choke not their good impulses."
"It is a long way from Buddha's flower to his mountain," said Umé, as she looked off to where Fuji rose in the distance.
"Is it true," asked Tara, "that on the days when we cannot see the mountain through the mist, it is because it has gone on a visit to the gardens of the gods?"
"That is what I always thought when I was a child," his grandmother answered.
"And do many pilgrims every year climb the long way up its steep sides to the top?"
"Yes, my child."
"And must I also climb to the top some day, if I wish to please the gods?"