A Man With An Agenda

The story of Sadako Sasaki brings tears to my eyes. The author goes too far in her fiction for me to recommend it. In second grade our teacher read us a picture book about her life and her cranes, it wasn't this and I haven't been able to find it online, but the story stayed with me. It had lost most of its power though, until a few years ago when a small art gallery had an exhibit on origami and, strolling through, I saw a tiny glass case on a wall of miniature pieces.

There was a crane made of yellowing cellophane and it was labeled as having been folded by Sadako from a candy wrapper. I had a rush of feelings, it was like I was a child being explained for the first time what war was and about the suffering we inflict on each other. The atomic bomb helped bring WWII to a close, saving countless lives. Each one of those lives is an argument for the necessity of the bomb, but it is a terrible cost all the same.

In Coerr's retelling of Sadako's story she shows how Sadako, on learning she has leukemia, turns to the legend that when a person folds 1,000 paper cranes a wish will be granted. In this version Sadako tries her hardest but fails. She only makes 644 cranes (a very specific number) and, failing, dies. Death is hard for children to understand, but while there are many times that it may be necessary to soften a blow, a narrative whose main point is to illustrate one person's tragedy as an example of the effects of war is not one of them.

In reality, Sadako reached her goal of 1,000 cranes and beyond, and still died. Children understand unfairness, they can handle a real telling of this story.