This is the time of year when the birds that first came to Kyoto from Siberia some fifteen years ago are due to reappear. I love to see these snow-white creatures flying above me against the heavy gray sky before the real snowflakes appear to tell us that winter has begun.

Three years ago I watched those birds with a broken heart. I had taken a Practical English Test that autumn. There was a listening comprehension test which included the topic of bird migration. As soon as I caught the words "migration of birds," a beautiful scene with white birds entered my mind, and my attention began to drift away. So I was quite sure that I had failed. As I looked blankly at the birds at the foot of the bridge, it was as though they were teasing me as they flew above my head. Fortunately, a postcard marked "success" was delivered to me a few weeks later. At that time, I had been fumbling in the dark trying to find a key to show me how to improve my English. How often I came to a standstill! When I was a student, I was disappointed to discover how poor my English was and that my ability in mastering a foreign language was quite limited.

After I got married the trouble was that I did not have enough time to study English. I was taking an English correspondence course, but often delayed sending in my test papers to the school. My daughters were five and two at the time. There was no one except me to do the housework and take care of them. The younger one was always around me while the older one was in kindergarten during the morning. I used to be exhausted at night which was the time when I was supposed to be studying. I wanted to study in the daytime, but a few children, sometimes more, were often playing in the small house. Even though they were upstairs, the noise carried downstairs. They sang, jumped, ran, and quarreled.

When my younger daughter didn't join the others, she soon tired of being alone and asked me to play with her. If I said, "No," she began whining and wouldn't stop. So, I sometimes studied in the morning when my family was still sleeping. But being an "early bird" was hard work.

It once happened that I had to send the regular examination paper to the school within a couple of days. As my younger child was looking at a picture book upstairs by herself, I thought it was a good chance to finish the task. Several minutes later I had become absorbed in it when I heard the patter of little feet. My daughter came to me with a picture book in her hand and said, "Mommy, look at this page. The rabbit is so cute. What is she doing?"

"She is crying," I answered simply.

"Why? Why is she crying? Oh, your book has a picture, too! What's this? Can I see?"

Her chattering sounded endless. Then I told her in an irritated voice, "Be quiet, or go upstairs." But, she just kept sitting beside me and repeating her questions. Eventually I threw the pencil in my hand against the wall and shouted, "Shut up! Don't you understand what I am saying! Can't you see that I am studying? I told you to go away. So, why don't you?"

She stopped talking and gazed at me. She seemed about to burst into tears, but she bit her lip and just kept on staring at me. For a moment I saw a hint of fear in her eyes. Fear of her own mother! She was completely at a loss and looked very sad. Suddenly, I grabbed her hand and took her out of the house.

It was autumn outside. Yellow ginkgoes and red maples were rustling among the dark green pine trees. A narrow street covered with colorful falling leaves led us to a quiet temple where a few tourists were enjoying a stroll. Walking in the cool, fresh air with my daughter, I found that her hand was tiny, tender, and very warm. She was humming her favorite song. And so was I.

I wondered if it would have been better to quit studying and to dedicate all of my time to raising my children, if I wasn't to have trouble with them. Or perhaps I should have just told them not to interrupt me whenever I was involved in studying English. However, I could choose neither alternative, and I have spent three years complaining about my lack of free time and the small progress I have made in learning English.

My daughters are now old enough to understand that studying is a part of my life. When the younger one speaks to me, the industrious student, the older one tells her, "Be quiet, Mommy is studying!" Quite honestly, I am embarrassed every time I hear it.

I appreciate their concern and at the same time, I cannot help asking myself, "Are you doing your duty as a mother? Do you ever reward them for their kindness?"

I can't answer these questions, and I doubt that I will be able to in the future. But there is something I do believe. My daughters will always have an example of what it means to have a purpose in life.