A student studying in Japan once called home and said,
“I feel so embarrassed today.”
— “Why? What happened?”
— “I forgot to bring my drawing box to class.”
— “So what?”
— “What did he do?”
— “He came up to me and apologized! He said he was sorry that he hadn’t reminded me strongly enough to bring my drawing box today.”
— “Hmm…”
— “After that, I realized — I’ll never forget my drawing box again. If he had scolded or punished me, I probably would have just come up with a silly excuse to defend myself!”
Even when Japan loses a football match, their supporters clean the stadium before leaving.
How strange, right?
Is this how you express defeat? If you lose — curse the referee, throw empty beer cans, peanut shells, and soda bottles onto the field! Call for a two-day strike! Or at least, in the intellectuals’ way, say the
team selection was wrong — maybe the government or the opposition party had a hand in it.
“Please take my life, but accept this rice. Protect my people — they love rice. Let them never go hungry.”
But he didn’t run away with his family. He didn’t conspire with foreign powers.
He stayed, took responsibility, and thought of his people.
When the warning sirens went off, the owner of a fishery company,
Mr. Sato, rushed to save his employees first. He had only 30 minutes.
He prioritized the foreign Chinese workers — led them one by one to a nearby hilltop for safety.
Only after everyone was safe did he go to check on his family. But by then, the tsunami had already arrived. He and his family were swept away before everyone’s eyes. They were never found.
If Mr. Sato had met some of us South Asians, maybe he’d have learned our motto: “Save yourself first!”
But instead, he became immortal in China.
The Chinese workers he saved built a
statue in his honor in their town square.
A nine-year-old Japanese boy was in class when the tsunami warning came. He alerted the teachers, who gathered all the students on the third floor. From the balcony, the boy saw his father driving toward the school — chased by a massive wall of water. The car didn’t stand a chance. Within seconds, his father disappeared. His mother and younger brother, who were at home near the shore, were already gone.
The boy ended up in a relief camp. Everyone was cold and hungry. Volunteers were handing out bread, but there wasn’t enough for everyone.
A foreign journalist saw the boy standing at the end of the line — it was clear there wouldn’t be any bread left by the time his turn came. So the journalist secretly gave the boy his own two pieces of bread.
The boy thanked him, but instead of eating them, he went over and placed them back at the distribution table — then quietly returned to his place in line.
The journalist, surprised, asked,
“Why did you do that, son?”
The boy replied,
“The food is being distributed from there. It should come through proper sharing. There might be others hungrier than me.”
The journalist was speechless. His well-meaning act of sympathy had unintentionally created unfairness — and this child had reminded him of justice and equality in the simplest way possible.
Those who know Japan know this: if you lose something on a train or bus, you can be sure it will be returned, untouched.
Even late at night, with no traffic around, pedestrians wait patiently for the green light before crossing the road.
Once, a foreign resident left his house unlocked while visiting his home country for a month. When he returned, everything was exactly as he had left it.
Where do the Japanese learn all this?
The first three words every Japanese child learns are:
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Konnichiwa (こんにちは) — Hello: Say hello whenever you see someone you know.
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Arigatou (ありがとう) — Thank you: Show gratitude for any kindness, no matter how small.
-
Gomen nasai (ごめんなさい) — I’m sorry: Humans make mistakes, and it’s important to apologize sincerely.
These are not just memorized words — teachers practice them in daily life and ensure the children do, too.
keeping their books, toys, and clothes organized; cleaning the toilet after using it; washing their own plates after eating.
In primary school, children
walk to school in groups — organized by the school authorities. They learn traffic rules, safety, and social discipline.
Parents dropping kids off by car? That’s considered embarrassing — not prestigious.
There is no distinction between rich or poor, top or bottom rank.
Roll numbers are assigned alphabetically, not by academic performance.
Students are divided into color teams — red, blue, green, yellow — and learn to cooperate and win together.
That’s why Japan doesn’t just produce “leaders” —
they produce an entire nation of people who lead together. 🇯🇵
