Reaching seniors through arts and crafts

When I first started making trips to the tsunami-devastated area in Iwate in April 2011, we concentrated on bringing food and supplies to those who had lost their homes. Although they were grateful for the things we brought, they were hesitant to share about their experiences. Most thought if they just ignored what had happened and concentrated on moving forward to rebuild their lives, they would be fine. While living in the shelters, it was easier to focus on the present because there were children playing and elderly people who needed assistance. But once people moved into the kasetsu jūtaku (temporary housing), they were faced with the silence of an empty home, and those suppressed feelings began to surface.

Families with children were given first priority and moved into the kasetsu jūtaku with better access to schools. As a result, retired people were lumped together in more remote temporary housing facilities that had very few families. Some had lost spouses or loved ones in the tsunami and were living alone for the first time in their lives.

I realized that they now needed trauma care more than food and supplies, so I began holding “Heart Care Gatherings” once a month. We would sing songs, I’d give a short Bible message, and then we’d have teatime. Most of the participants were older women, and when we made Christmas wreaths in December 2011, I saw their eyes light up for the first time in months. These ladies had lost all their possessions and were now living in impersonal box-type apartments that looked exactly like everyone else’s. Everyone received the same appliances and furniture from the Red Cross and other charitable organizations. Having something homemade to decorate their living room or genkan (entryway) made the temporary housing units feel more like home. So, we started making craft projects every month.

I noticed that it was difficult for the ladies to talk about their struggles when looking directly into people’s eyes. But when everyone was focusing on a handicraft, it was easier to share their true feelings. Some said they were still afraid to turn off the lights at night and needed to take sleeping pills or anti-anxiety medicine. One lady’s son was having nightmares after the horrors he saw while recovering bodies with the volunteer fire brigade. A younger woman had always cooked what her parents wanted to eat; now that she was alone she couldn’t make any decisions—she just stared at shelves in the grocery store, feeling paralyzed. The continual aftershocks would reawaken fears. Tears came to their eyes as I said a simple prayer for them. They had never heard anyone pray aloud for them—they had only heard chants and mantras uttered by Buddhist priests. But after a while, some even started saying, “Amen” at the end of my prayers!

After they moved to permanent housing, the ladies still wanted to get together, so I searched for a new location. I found a small prefab building that I was able to rent, and in April 2018, another believer and I opened Café Suika (Watermelon Café). Before the pandemic, we had gatherings once a month, but after social distancing became a requirement, we could no longer meet in large groups.

Instead, we’ve begun “One-on-One Heart Care.” We always have craft materials available, and any time anyone comes to the café who’s interested in making a craft, we sit down with them and work on the project together. Young people are now participating too! I’ve found that people are more open when in small groups or one-on-one. One woman who had participated for many years was hesitant to share her story in front of others, but when she came to the café by herself, she told us that her husband had committed suicide less than a year before the earthquake. Because so many people had lost loved ones tragically in the tsunami, she felt she couldn’t talk about her husband since he died by his own choice. She had no one to help her process her grief and was so thankful to find a place where she felt safe enough to share her true feelings.

Twelve years have now gone by and some of the ladies now have problems with arthritis and eyesight, so I prepare more simple crafts using sparkly stickers and decorative jewels. I started including glittery cross stickers to see if the ladies would choose them. Gradually, they became more comfortable using the cross stickers. They call the crosses, “Kirisuto-sama (Christ).” One woman put several crosses in the middle of her craft saying, “I’ll put Christ here in the center.” That’s my prayer for each of these precious ladies—that Christ would become the center of their lives.

Photos submitted by author