By Shizuye Takashima
When Shizuye Takashima, "Shichan" as she was once known as, used to be 11 years outdated, her whole global replaced perpetually. As a Japanese-Canadian in 1941, she was once between hundreds of thousands of individuals pressured from their houses and despatched to stay in internment camps within the Canadian Rockies. even though none have been convicted of any crime, they have been thought of the enemy as the state used to be at battle with Japan. during this actual tale of unhappiness and pleasure, Shichan recollects her existence within the days best as much as her family's compelled move to the camp, her worry, anger, and frustration because the conflict drags on, and the fantastic joys within the camp: a Kabuki play, vacation celebrations, and the ever present fantastic thing about the stars.
From the alternate Paperback edition.
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Extra resources for A Child in Prison Camp
The sky is blue, pale, yet so lovely. I can hear the birds too. It is really spring. ” Kazuo looks funny. He bends his dark head, looks so serious. ” I pass the paper to him quietly. He reads it and writes, “Yes,” and returns it to me. No one sees us. Miss Hamma is busy at her desk. I look out the window again, the trees are swaying gently. Father’s garden Father has cleared most of the land around our house. We are in the wilderness, so this is done with hard work. Every day after work, he and Mr.
I go to the window. All our blinds are tightly drawn. I peek out, carefully lifting them. I see one by one the lights in the city vanish. Heavy darkness and quiet covers Vancouver. It looks weird. But the stars, high, high above, still sparkle, not caring, still beautiful and happy. I feel sad to be leaving the mountains, the lovely sea. I have grown with them always near me. ” Mother’s voice reaches me. I turn. I feel sadness come from her too. She has lived here for so long: “Over twenty-five years — hard to believe— I was a young girl, full of dreams.
Yes, there she is walking towards us with little Kay-ko. Both are smiling. My sister waves a letter. I stand up. ” I run towards them. ” I ask, as I reach them. Yuki opens the letter. I notice it is taped at one end, for the censors always read our mail. “From David, Yuki? ” David smiles at us in the picture, he looks so nice. Father looks, smiles, “He’s grown, seems older. Being alone does this. ” He wipes his brow again. I can tell he is pleased. I run into the house. Mother wipes her round glasses, holds the picture.