Welcome to a secret world that hides beneath the surface of the mundane. It is world of urban legends and rumors, a world of astonishing deeds and epic battles. Meet its enigmatic inhabitants. Learn their secrets, their desires, their beliefs, their hopes and their dreams. Listen to the tales of pain, injustice, compassion, kindness, courage, teamwork, love, sacrifice and hope. Meet the guardian angels, the warriors, the philosophers, the priests, the phantoms and the wanderers.  But remember – once you enter this world, you can never truly leave it.

ENIGMATIC ANGEL: A Year of Thousand Cranes.

‘I will write Peace on your wings
and you will fly all over the world.'

Sadako Sasaki

It was the final day of a very troubled year. Despite the occasion, the night was humble and quiet. A quick wind blew through the trees, tickling my hair and sending my trenchcoat flying. Some people find the night creepy. But on this day, I felt nothing but serenity and peace.

The Children’s Monument was a vision of elegant simplicity. A young girl stood atop of a streamlined oval, three-legged pedestal, holding a large crane over her head. All around it, thousands upon thousands of origami cranes were stacked in neat, rainbow-like piles. I lost count of the cranes sometime around 1961.

Her name was Sadako Sasaki. She was just a little girl, like millions of other little girls from over the planet. Even when the world gave up on her, she never gave up hope. She dreamed of a better world. A world where humanity can finally find peace.  She died trying to make that dream come true.

I never knew her. Yet every year, I take time to come here and pay my respects.

I knelt in front of the Children’s Monument. So many times, I tried to say something profound. Something meaningful. But every year, I can only say one thing:

“Hello, Sadako. It’s good to see you again.”

And somehow, it always seems right.

My mind drifted back to a different time. Back then; this was a center of a busy metropolis. The world was engulfed in a terrible war with no end in sight. There was so much bloodshed. So much pain…. So much destruction…. The massacres in Europe, the plundering of Korea and Hong Kong, the devastation in Russia, the slaughter in China… I always considered myself a messenger of hope. But as I watched humanity sink lower and lower, I began to question my own beliefs. At times, I wondered if perhaps the world was beyond hope.

On August 6, 1945, I was sure of it.

In a single blast, hundreds of thousands of innocent people were wiped off the face of the Earth. They never had the chance.

I remembered walking among the ruins of Hiroshima, searching for any sign of life. I did not feel pain. I did not feel rage. Instead, I felt… nothing.

I spent the next few days trying my best to help the survivors. It was going to be my last mission. After that, I decided to withdraw from the world. Humanity could kill itself several times over for all I cared.

It was Sadako who saved me. Her hopes were so strong they penetrated the walls of my sanctuary. I knew I had to investigate. I was too late to help her, but I knew I couldn’t leave empty-handed. So I asked about her.

What I heard touched me beyond words. Sadako survived the tragedy that made me give up on humanity. Ten years later, the tragedy caught up with her. The radiation from the atomic bomb gave her leukemia, a disease that slowly stripped away her life while human medicine could do nothing. Yet even after all this, she still had hope. She still dared to dream of a better world.

I traveled around the globe. In my absence, humanity rose from the ashes, blossoming into something better then ever before. I met a student of another dreamer. He was not perfect, but he was a good man. He had a dream of justice without violence. He believed that love was strong enough to overcome the worst hatred. He showed me that I was wrong to give up on the world. 

For next three decades, I continued my mission, giving hope to those who have none, relieving suffering and helping the needy any way I could. Several times, I was tempted to give up, but I never could. I owed Sadako that much.

I looked up at her statue.

“This has been an extraordinary year,” I said quietly, “I’ve seen cold cruelty and boundless compassion. I’ve seen selfless sacrifices and selfish agendas. I’ve seen tireless dedication and burning fanaticism.  I guess you could say I’ve seen the best and the worst of humanity.

You know, when the World Trade Center was hit, I was wondering how much hatred this was going to cause. I mean, look what happened last time Americans lost that many lives.  But you know what? This time, I saw something different. Something I never thought I would see again.  I saw people refusing to give in to their inner demons. Instead, they reached out to others. They tried to understand what happened instead of rushing to conclusions. Sure, some people weren’t that open-minded. But as I look back at everything that I saw over the past few decades… It’s good to see humanity learning from its mistakes. That the time I spent running around the planet is actually worth something. Sure, talking about hope is great and all. But it’s nice to watch your work bear fruit. ”

For the past four decades, I made a crane for every person I saved. Every New Year’s Eve, I brought them to the Children’s Monument.

“You are going to get a lot of cranes this year,” I smiled

I opened my trenchcoat. The paper cranes flew out, circling around the Children’s memorial. I thought of all the people that made them possible. Two little girls I shielded from falling debris. A manager I caught in midair before he fell to his death. The cynical teenager who tried to get a group of survivors to safety. A brilliant inventor that regained his confidence in the face of despair. An accountant who was on the verge of giving up all hope… I remembered the tearful reunions, the smiles, and expressions of gratitude. Thousands of people got a second chance. In the end, that’s all that really matters.

I knew Sadako was in a better place now.  But I also knew that in every person who selflessly helps another, in every person who reaches out to his neighbor, in every person that weeps for the innocent and prays for peace, her dream lives on.  And that must bring a smile to her face.

I set the cranes down to their piles. Far away, I saw fireworks and heard cheers. In the Land of the Rising Sun, the new year, and with it, the new hope, began.

I picked up my trenchcoat and prepared to leave:

“Happy New Year, Sadako,” I smiled, making a final bow, “I will see you next year”

26.09.03 - 07.12.03