The Story of Sadako

In Memory of my dear friend, Dorothea Dryden: 1925 - 2004


Today I came across an interesting Gimundo story that reminded me of a piece of stained glass that I made a few years ago. I had a friend, Dorothea Dryden. She moved to Ottawa in the late 90's and started going to Orleans United Church. She had moved there from my friend Marie's church, in Thomasburg, and Marie had given her my name so I could help her make connections in a big new city. So of course I took Dorothea under my wing and we had some great times together. She was a kind lady who loved quilting and doing work for her church. She looked a bit like my Grandma Chapman!! We had her over for several Sunday dinners with the family as I remembered my mom telling me how lonely the weekend was when you're a widow. When my mom was dying in my home in the summer of 2000 Dorothea came by to lend her support.

But Dorothea had her own story. She was facing a very rare disease called amyliodosis. Her move to Ottawa happened so she could be near her daughter in her time of need. Dorothea lived with this disease for several years, but did all she could to make every day count and help others. In February of 2004, after we had moved to Brockville, I learned that Dorothea was hospitalized and not well. The amyloidosis had progressed causing most of her organs to be smothered by the protein deposits, while huge amounts of fluid were congesting the body. She left the hospital go to her daughter's home to spend her final weeks. When I visited Dorothea there the room was full of paper cranes that ladies from her old church in Thomasburg had sent her along with their prayers. She then told me the moving story of Sadako Sasaki as related in the children's book, Sadako and The Thousand Cranes, to explain to me more about why her church friends were sending her the paper folded cranes.

Dorothea asked me to make a piece of stained glass for her to give Sandra as a thankyou for helping through this dying journey. When I tried to think of what to make, the story of Sadako came to mind, and I found a crane design then added in some Hibiscus flowers to go along with it and made them blue as this was Dorothea's favourite colour. It turned out that her daughter, Sandra also loved birds so the idea was very fitting. I showed Dorothea the pattern and she loved it but she died before I got the piece completed. Sandra was very touched when she received the stained glass a few days after the funeral. Sandra has a gorgeous home and a dining room with vibrant pink walls, so I used a gorgoeus baroque swirled pink glass for the background of the piece. Unfortunately the pictures I got below were not the best but will give you a feel for the piece.



I read the complete story today in the Gimundo article and learned about the real Sadako and her tragic fight with leukemia which she contacted as a result of the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima when she was just a baby. She was a vibrant, loving child who died at the age of 12. Before she died she started folding paper cranes to try and live as she had heard that if she folded a thousand of them then her health issues would be resolved. Sadly she did not complete the cranes but they were put in her coffin to accompany her to the next world and many were also given to her school mates.

Since then, paper cranes have become a symbol for world peace and a atomic peace statue of a child holding a paper crane has been erected in Sadako's memory.

Photo on the left was taken at a goodbye party held for me in Oct, 2002 when we moved away from Ottawa. The other person besides Dorothea, is Mary Ann Pocock, another dear friend who came by to do Reiki with my mom when she was dying from cancer in my home. At this time Mary Ann was getting chemo for breast cancer and has since passed away.

So today I remember Dorothea.... her humility, her quaint farm ways, her community spirit, her generosity, her joie de vivre as she quilted lovely gifts for each of her grand children, her sense of humour and her accepting faith and courage in the face of death....... just like that wee Sadako, a child I'll never know but one whose voice will now ring through the ages, transcending time as she flies with the cranes.