The Lady in Saffron

It was the time of the harvest festival and while most of the villagers were celebrating in front of the temple, enjoying food, drink, music and dancing one young woman drifted away from the celebration. She had just lost her husband and her heart was filled with sadness every time she saw other happy couples together. So, she moved to the back of the temple and began walking amongst the trees, resplendent in their autumn finery. It was peaceful and the woman thought she was alone, but then she saw another woman. She was young and beautiful, dressed in saffron robes and she was standing alone beneath one of the largest trees on the grounds, a beautiful weeping peach tree.

Not knowing quite why, the woman walked towards the lady in saffron robes and together they stared quietly toward the horizon. Finally, it was the lady in saffron robes who broke the silence. She asked why the woman was not enjoying the festivities with the others. At first the woman was reluctant to share her personal tragedy, she didn’t want to ruin the other woman’s day with her sadness. However, through gentle persuasion the lady in saffron coaxed the words out of the grieving widow. Before long, she found herself telling stories about her husband, how they’d met, the joyful times they had, all the things she missed about him. As talk turned to the joyful times the woman found herself laughing beneath the tree with the other woman, as if they had always known each other.

When the sun began to drift toward the horizon, the lady in saffron robes helped the woman to her feet and told her she was going to miss the fireworks. A moment later, the woman heard her sister calling for her. She called out to her sister, then turned to say goodbye to the lady in saffron, but the lady in saffron was gone. The woman glanced around, but couldn’t see her anywhere. Her sister arrived and asked the woman what she was doing back here by herself and the woman replied that she hadn’t been alone as the two drifted back to the front of the temple.

The woman looked for the lady in saffron for the rest of the night and even asked those around her if they’d seen a young lady in saffron robes. Hearing her inquiries, one of the temple’s priests came over to speak with the woman. He listened to the woman’s story, then smiled and told her she had been quite fortunate for the lady in saffron was not a person, but a spirit. She was rarely seen by the priests, but when she was it would always be beneath the weeping peach tree behind the temple. Even then, the priest knew no one who had actually spoken with her, although there were stories of her appearing to others, offering wisdom and comfort. The woman laughed at that, believing that the priest was joking with her, after all he was a priest of Inari, but he insisted that he spoke the truth. The woman then asked if she would ever see the woman in saffron again, at that the priest smiled and shrugged. Who knew what the future held after all?

For years afterwards, the woman returned to the temple hoping to see the lady in saffron again, but she never did. However, she did continue to tell the story of her encounter and talked to many others who had seen her. In time she would tell the story again to her children and eventually her grandchildren, the memory of that day always staying fresh in her mind.

The temple in the story above is said to be Yamino Inari where there are indeed several trees located around the temple including a particularly large shidare momo or weeping peach tree behind the temple. Some say that tree is older then the temple itself, others say it was planted by Izaki Seijuro to commemorate the loss of a loved one, though no one can say who it was. Regardless, visitors to the temple will occasionally see a pale woman in yellow robes standing beneath the tree. Often, this is all they will see, just a glimpse of a woman standing beneath the branches and looking towards the horizon. She seems to vanish once they take their eyes off of her. More rarely, someone will say they actually spoke to her. Such encounters only seem to happen when a person is both alone and feeling grief. In those moments, the lady in saffron seems to be a kind spirit listening to the person’s troubles and offering advice. On every occasion, the person always feels better after the encounter and the sadness they felt before becomes more bearable.

The exact identity of the Lady in Saffron is a mystery. Some believe she is the benevolent spirit of the weeping peach tree, moved to comfort those who stand beneath her boughs. Others say that she is the forlorn ghost of a princess slain during the Hundred Days of Thunder, who now haunts the temple comforting others even as she mourns for all she lost. Some also believe she is a manifestation of Kannon, the Kami of Mercy or even Inari in one of her more benevolent aspects. The truth may never be known, because as with many of temples in Temple Hills, the oldest legends were lost during the Hundred Days of Thunder when the old temples were destroyed and their priests slain. And so far, the Lady in Saffron has seemed content to keep her own secrets.

Mr. Fushida and the Saffron Lady

Many years ago my elder sister Satsuko fell ill and was diagnosed with leukemia. As a result my life began to revolve more and more around the hospital where the doctors tried to treat her. I found it an increasingly depressing place as time went on and my sister’s condition worsened. One night as we sat in the waiting room, my father got to his feet and told me: “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He then spoke briefly to my mother who was dozing in a chair and not long after that we were in his truck rolling away from the hospital.

I’m not sure that my father knew where he was going, he just wanted to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the hospital. So, we eventually found ourselves rolling down a country road moving away from Shintakara and listening to the radio. As he drove my father would sing along to the music, his voice slightly off key. I sat in silence beside him, just staring out at the darkness. That is until I saw a glow on the horizon.

“What’s that?” I asked my father, pointing out the glow.

“Don’t know. Let’s find out,” my father said as we kept driving, this time heading towards the light. It turned out to be a temple, lit up in the night like a fairy palace and we were drawn to its light and warmth like moths to a flame. That was the first time I ever saw Yamino Inari and the image of it then is still etched in my memory to this day.

It turn out that the temple was lit that night because of the Blossom Festival and once we arrived we were soon welcomed to the festivities. There was food and music and dancing. We spent hours there, until my father realized we should return to the hospital, but before we did I picked up a garland of flowers and a small bag of candy for my sister.

When we finally returned to the hospital, my mother was very angry and she and my father got into a big argument in the waiting room. The shouting ended pretty quickly, but the harsh whispers were almost worse. I retreated into my sister’s room shortly after it began and told her about the festival and how she wished she could have seen it with us. I promised that as soon as she got better we would all visit Yamino Inari together.

Unfortunately, my sister did not get better and as her condition worsened, my father began to spend more time away from the hospital. Often he would go off alone, returning later smelling faintly of alcohol only to be scolded by my mother. However, whenever he took me with him we would visit Yamino Inari. My father was never what I would call a pious man, but at those times he would enter the shrine and pray fervently. I couldn’t stand to hear him begging the gods for deliverance, for forgiveness, for whatever he was praying for at the time. So, instead I would wander the temple until he was done and decided to call for me.

Yamino Inari was never quite as magical as that first night, but it was still beautiful and as spring turned to fall, the weeping peach trees turned a brilliant gold color. For awhile it was enough to soothe me. I could run among the trees or sit beneath them reading my books and forget about my troubles for a time. However, at some point even being at Yamino Inari couldn’t take away the sadness I felt. I knew my sister was dying and my parents fought more and more. Sometimes my father wouldn’t even come home at night anymore and my mother would just weep in her bedroom. Worse, I felt helpless, like there was nothing I could do to help anyone in my family.

One day, I sat beneath the largest of the trees and tried to read, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words on the page. All I could see was my sister’s face as I’d seen her that morning, pale, thin, without a single hair on her head. Despite that, she had still smiled at me and told me it was going to be alright. I’d yelled at her then, screaming that it wasn’t alright. It shocked everyone, but my father quickly dragged me from the room and then we’d driven straight to Yamino Inari. We hadn’t spoken more then three words on the drive over, he hadn’t even scolded me.

At the time, I’d felt angry. Angry at the hospital, the doctors, my parents, my sister, the gods, the world. But now, amongst the trees all the anger was gone and I was just left with the sadness. I tossed my book away as violently as I could and then started crying. That was when she appeared to me, a beautiful woman in yellow robes. She knelt beside me, holding my book in her lap and asked me why I was so sad. So, I told her and then she held me as I continued crying into her shoulder. I woke up sometime later lying under the tree. I was alone, but my book sat nearby. Then I heard my father calling my name in the distance. After that, we returned to the hospital and I apologized to my mother and my sister. However, all through the ride back to the hospital and for the rest of the day I could still remember the soft scent of the Lady in Saffron and the warmth of her touch.

That was the first time I encountered the Lady in Saffron, but it would not be the last. The second time happened at my sister’s funeral. My father arranged to have it at Yamino Inari, so in a way as we all gathered there, we fulfilled the promise I’d made to my sister months before. After the service ended, I escaped as quickly as I could and began wandering the trees. This time I was looking for the Lady in Saffron and by whatever fortune arranges such things I found her again.

This time she said nothing to me, I just ran into her arms and she held me while I cried. I don’t know how long we stood like that until I heard my father call my name. The Lady moved to pull away, but I held her tightly and told her I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to go with my father anymore. There was nothing left at home except the sadness and the bitter words between my parents. I wanted to stay there with her.

She leaned down and kissed my forehead, then whispered into my ear that my place wasn’t here it was out in the world. She said she had to be there at Yamino Inari, but I was free to come and go as I pleased. She promised that she would see me again some day and when I did I could tell her the stories of all the things I’d seen out there in the world that she could never visit.

I promised I would return one day to tell her stories and then reluctantly I let her go. The Lady in Saffron then turned and walked amongst the trees, disappearing from sight as I watched her go. I was still standing there, watching the place where she’d vanished when my father finally found me. He told me quietly that it was time to go home. While I would eventually return to Yamino Inari many times over the years that would be the last time my father and I ever visited the temple together. While I have never seen the Saffron Lady in person again, I still return each year during the Blossom Festival to walk amongst the trees and tell stories about all the things I’ve done and seen since the last time I visited. In this way I keep my promise and hope to one day be rewarded with a glimpse of the Saffron Lady again.