Music Welcome to Snewscast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and wherever you listen to podcasts. If you'd like to listen at free or unlock our

vast and snoozy catalog of sleep stories, go to snoozecast.com slash plus. This episode is brought to you by Lackard Boxes. Tonight we'll read The Mirror of Matsuyama, a story found in Japanese fairy tales by Ye Theodora Ozaki in 1908. This tale explores the quiet strength of familial love and the power of memory all seen through the lens, literally, of a small hand mirror. It begins with a mother who gives her daughter the mirror as a keepsake, and unfolds into a story that blends gentle superstition with emotional resilience. The mirror itself becomes a symbolic object, reflecting not only appearances, but also devotion and loss. Ye Theodoro Zaki was born in England to a Japanese father and an English mother, and she devoted much of her life to retelling Japanese folk tales in English with great care and lyricism. For collection introduced many readers in the West to the stories and moral traditions of Japan. The Mirror of Matuyama is one of the more intimate tales in the collection, less about mythical creatures or grand adventures, and more about the enduring connection between a mother and her child.

Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your head. Now take a few deep breaths. you Long years ago, in old Japan, they lived in a very remote part of Japan, even in these days, a man and his wife. When this story begins, they had been married for some years, and were blessed with one little daughter. She was the joy and pride of both their lives, and in her they stored an endless source of happiness for their old age. What golden letter days in their memory were these that had marked her growing up from babyhood? The visit to the temple when she was just thirty days old. Her proud mother carrying her robed in ceremonial kimono to be put under the patronage of the family's household God. Then, her first doll's festival, when her parents gave her a set of dolls in their miniature belongings to be added to as year, succeeded year, and perhaps the most important occasion of all. On her third birthday, when her first obi, or broad, brocade sash of scarlet and gold, was tied round her small waist, a sign that she had crossed the threshold of girlhood and left infancy behind. Now that she was seven years of age and had learned to talk and to wait upon her parents in those several little ways so dear to the hearts of the fond parents, their cup of happiness seemed full. could not be found in the whole of the island empire, a happier little family. One day, there was much excitement in the home for the father had been suddenly summoned to the capital on business. In these days of railways and gin-rich shaws and other rapid modes of traveling, it is difficult to realize what such a journey is that from their remote land of Matsuyama to Kyoto meant. The roads were rough and bad, and ordinary people had to walk every step of the way, whether the distance were 100 or several hundred miles. Indeed, in those days it was as great an undertaking to go up to the capital as it is for a Japanese person to make a voyage to Europe now. So, the wife was very anxious while she helped her husband get ready for the long journey, knowing what an arduous task lay before him. Vain Lee, she wished that she could accompany him, but the distance was too great for the mother and child to go. All was ready at last, and the husband stood in the porch with his little family round him. I will come back soon, said the man, while I am away, to care of everything and especially of our little daughter. Yes, we shall be all right," said the wife, while the tears fell like rain from her eyes. The little girl was the only one to smile, for she was ignorant of the sorrow of parting, and did not know that going to the capital was at all different from walking to the next village, which her father did very often. She ran to his side and caught hold of his long sleeve to keep him a moment. Father, I will be very good while I'm waiting for you to come back, so please bring me a present. As the father turned to take a last look at his weeping wife and smiling eager child, he felt as if someone were pulling him back by the hair, so hard was it for him to leave them behind, for they had never been separated before. But he knew that he must go, for the call was imperative. With a great effort he ceased to think, and resolutely turning away, he went quickly down the little garden and out through the gate. His wife, catching up the child in her arms, ran as far as the gate, and watched him as he went down the road between the pines. Till at last he was lost in the haze of the distance, and all she could see was his quaint peaked hat, and at last, that vanish too. Now Father has gone. You and I must take care of everything till he comes back," said the mother, as she made her way back to the house. "'Yes, I will be very good,' said the child, nodding her head. And when Father comes home, please tell him how good I've been, and then perhaps he will give me a present. Father, sure to bring you something that you want very much. I know, for I asked him to bring you a doll. Oh yes, when he comes home again how happy I shall be," said the child, clapping her hands, and her face growing bright with joy at the glad thought. It seemed to the mother as she looked at the child's face that her love for her grew deeper and deeper. Then she said to work to make the winter clothes for the three of them. She set up her simple wooden spinning wheel and spun the thread before she began to weave the stuff. In the intervals of her work, she directed the little girl's games and taught her to read the old stories of her country. Thus did the wife find consolation in work during the lonely days of her husband's absence. While the time was thus slipping quickly by in the quiet home, the husband finished his business and returned. It would have been difficult for anyone who did not know the man well to recognize him. He had traveled day after day, exposed to all weather for about a month altogether, and was sunburned to bronze. But his fond wife and child knew him at a glance, and flew to meet him from either side. Each catching hold of one of his sleeves in their eager greeting. Both the man and his wife were joys to find each other well. It seemed a very long time till all the mother and child helping had helped his straw sandals to become untied, his large umbrella hat taken off, and then he was again in their midst in the old familiar sitting room that had been so empty while he was away. As soon as they had sat down on their white mats, the father opened a bamboo basket that he had brought in with him and took out a beautiful doll and a lacquer box full of cakes. Here, he said to the little girl, is a present for you. It is a prize for taking care of mother and the house so well while I was away. Thank you, said the child, as she bowed her head to the ground, and then put out her hand just like a little maple leaf with its eager widespread fingers to take the doll and the box, both of which coming from the capital were prettier than anything she had ever seen. words can tell how delighted the little girl was. Her face seemed as if it would melt with joy, and she had no eyes and no thought for anything else. Again, the husband dived into the basket and brought out this time a square wooden box, carefully tied up with red and white string and handing it to his wife said, and this is for you. The wife took the box and opening it, took out a metal disc with a handle attached. One side was bright and shining like a crystal, and the other was covered with raised figures of pine trees and storks, which had been carved out of its smooth surface in life-like reality. Never had she seen such a thing in her life, for she had been born and bred in this rural province. She gazed into the shining desk and looking up with surprise and wonder pictured on her face, she said, I see somebody looking at me in this round thing. What is it that you have given me? The husband laughed and said, Why? It is your own face that you see. I have brought you is called a mirror. And whoever looks into its clear surface can see their own form reflected there. Although there are none to be found in this out of the way place. There, the mirror is considered a very necessary requisite for a woman to possess. According to popular tradition, a woman's mirror is an index to her own heart. If she keeps it bright and clear, so is her heart pure and good. So you must Just lay great store by your mirror and use it carefully.

The wife listened to all her husband told her and was pleased at learning so much that was new to her. She was still more pleased at the precious gift, his token of remembrance while he had been away. If the mirror represents my soul, I shall certainly treasure it as a valuable possession, and never will I use it carelessly. So she lifted it as high as her forehead in great flick knowledge meant of the gift, and then shut it up in its box and put it away. The wife saw that her husband was very tired and set about serving the evening meal and making everything as comfortable as she could for him. It seemed to the little family as if they had not known what true happiness was before, so glad were they to be together again. In this evening, the father had much to tell of his journey, and of all he had seen at the great capital. Time passed away in the peaceful home, and the parents saw their fondest hopes realized as the daughter grew from childhood into a beautiful girl of sixteen. They reared her with unceasing love and care, and now their pains were more than doubly rewarded. Alas, in this world even the moon is not always perfect in shape, but loses its roundness with time, and flowers bloom and then fade. So at last, the good and gentle wife and mother was one day taken ill. Day or night the girl never left her mother's side. One day as the girl sat near her mother's bed, trying to hide with a cheery smile, the gnawing trouble at her heart. The mother roused herself and, taking her daughter's hand, gazed earnestly and lovingly into her eyes. She spoke with difficulty and said, My daughter, promise me to take care of your dear father and try to be a good and beautiful woman. O mother, said the girl, you must not say such things. All you have to do is make haste and get well, that will bring the greatest happiness to Father and myself.

Do not look so sorrowful for it was so ordained in my previous state of existence that I should die in this life just at this time, and now I have something to give you whereby to remember me when I am gone. her hand out, she took from the side of the pillow a square wooden box tied up with a silken cord and tassels. Undoing this very carefully, she took out of the box the mirror that her husband had given her years ago. When you were still a little child, your father went up to the capital and brought me back as a present this treasure. It is called a mirror. This I give you before I die. If you are lonely and long to see me sometimes, then take out this mirror, and in the clear and shining surface, you will always see me. So will you be able to meet with me often and tell me all your heart, and though I shall not be able to speak, I shall understand and sympathize with you whatever may happen to you in the future. The mind of the good mother seemed to be now at rest, and sinking back without another word, her spirit passed quietly away that day. The daughter's love for her mother did not grow less with time, and so keen was her remembrance that even the falling of the rain and the blowing of the wind reminded her of her mother and of all that they had loved and shared together. One day, when her father was out and she was fulfilling her household duties alone, her loneliness seemed more than she could bear. Suddenly, she sat up. Her mother's last words had rung through her memory hitherto, dulled by grief. Oh, my mother told me when she gave me the mirror as a parting gift that whenever I looked into it I should be able to meet her, to see her. I will get the mirror now and see if it can possibly be true." She dried her eyes quickly and going to the cupboard took out the box that contained the mirror. Her heart beating with expectation as she lifted the mirror out and gazed into its smooth surface. The hold, her mother's words were true. In the round mirror before her, she saw her mother's face. But oh oh, the joyful surprise! It was not her mother wasting away, but the young and beautiful woman as she remembered her far back in the days of her own earliest childhood. It seemed to the girl that the face in the mirror must soon speak. Almost that she heard the voice of her mother telling her again to grow up a good woman and a beautiful daughter. So earnestly did the eyes in the mirror look back into her own. It is certainly my mother's soul that I see she has come to comfort me. Whenever I long to see her, she will meet me here. How grateful I ought to be. And from this time, the weight of sorrow was greatly lightened for her young heart. Every morning, to gather strength for the day's duties before her, and every evening, for consolation before she lay down to rest. Did the young girl take out the mirror and gaze at the reflection which in the simplicity of her innocent heart she believed to be her mother's soul? Daily she grew in the likeness of her mother's character and was gentle and kind to all, and a beautiful daughter to her father. A year spent in mourning had thus passed away in the little household, when, by the advice of his relations, the man married again, and the daughter now found herself under the authority of a stepmother. It was a trying position, but her days spent in the recollection of her own beloved mother, and of trying to be what that mother would wish her to be, had made the young girl patient, and she now determined to be filial and dutiful to her father's wife in all respects. Everything went on apparently smoothly in the family for some time under the new regime. There were no winds or waves of discord to ruffle the surface of everyday life, and the father was content. But as the days and weeks grew into months, the stepmother began to treat the motherless girl unkindly and to try and come between the father and child. Sometimes she went to her husband and complained of her stepdaughter's behavior, but the father, knowing that this was to be expected, took no notice of her ill-natured complaints. Instead of lessening his affection for his daughter as the woman desired, her grumbling only made him think of her the more. The woman soon saw that he began to show more concern for his lonely child than before. This did not please her at all, and she began to turn over in her mind how she could, by some means or other, drive her stepchild out of the house, so crooked that the woman's heart become. Watch the carefully, and one day peeping into her room in the early morning, she thought she discovered a grave enough sin of which to accuse the child to her father. The woman herself was a little frightened too at what she she had seen. So she went at once to her husband, and wiping away some false tears she said in a sad voice, please give me permission to leave you today. The man was completely taken by surprise at the suddenness of her request and wondered whatever was the matter. Do you find it so disagreeable? He asked in my house that you can stay no longer? No, no, it has nothing to do with you, even in my dreams I have never thought that I wish to leave your side. But if I go on living here, I am in danger of losing my life, so I think it best for all concerned that you should allow me to go home. the woman began to weep afresh. Her husband distressed to see her so unhappy and thinking that he could not have heard a right, said, tell me what you mean. How is your life in danger here? I will tell you since you ask me, your daughter dislikes me as her stepmother. For some time passed she has shut herself up in her room morning and evening, and looking in as I pass by. I am convinced that she has made an image of me, and is trying to kill me by magic art, cursing me daily. It is not safe for me to stay here, such being the case. Indeed, indeed, I must go away. We cannot live under the same roof anymore." The husband listened to the dreadful tale, but he could not believe his gentle daughter, guilty of such an evil act. He knew that by popular superstition, people believed that one person could cause the demise of another by making an image of the one and cursing it daily. But where had his young daughter learned such knowledge? The thing was impossible. Yet he remembered having noticed that his daughter stayed much in her room of late, and kept herself away from everyone, even when visitors came to the house. Putting this fact together with his wife's alarm, he thought that there might be something to account for the strange story. His heart was torn between doubting his wife and trusting his child, and he knew not what to do. He decided to go at once to his daughter and tried to find out the truth, comforting his wife and assuring her that her fears were groundless, he glided quietly to his daughter's room. The girl had tried by Amy Ability and obedience to show her good will and to qualify the new wife, and to break down that wall of prejudice and misunderstanding that she knew generally stood between step-parents and their step-children. Whenever she could she went

to her room and, sliding the screens to, took out the mirror and gazed as she thought at her mother's face, it was the only comfort that she had in those days. Her father found her occupied in this way. Pushing aside the Fusama or sliding door, he saw her bending over something or other very intently. Looking over her shoulder to see who was entering her room, the girl was surprised to see her father, for he generally sent for her when he wished to speak to her. She was also confused at being found looking at the mirror, for she had never told anyone of her mother's last promise, but had kept it as the secret secret of her heart. So before turning to her father, she slipped the mirror into her long sleeve. Her father, noting her confusion and her act of hiding something, said in a manner, daughter, what are you doing here and what is that you have hidden in your sleeve? The girl was frightened by her father's severity, never had he spoken to her in such her confusion changed to apprehension, her color from scarlet to white. She sat dumbfounded and shame-faced, unable to reply. Appearances were certainly against her. The young girl looked guilty, and the father, thinking that perhaps after all, what his wife had told him was true, spoke angrily. Then, is it really true that you are daily cursing or stepmother? You have certainly changed my daughter. What has made you so disobedient. She, on her part, did not know what he meant, for she had never heard of the superstition, but she saw that she must speak and clear herself somehow. She loved her father dearly and could not bear the idea of his anger. She put out her hand on his knee deprecatingly. Father, do not say such dreadful things to me. Surely someone has been telling you lies, and you are dazed, and you know not what you say, or some evil spirit has taken possession of your heart. As for me, I do not know. No, not so much as a dewdrop of the evil thing of which you accuse me. the father remembered that she had hidden something away when he first entered the room, and even this earnest protest did not satisfy him. He wished to clear up his doubts once and for all. Then why are you always alone in your room these? And tell me what it is that you have hidden in your sleeve. Show it to me at once. Then the daughter, though shy of confessing how she had cherished her mother's memory, saw that she must tell her father all in order to clear herself. So she slipped the mirror out from her long sleeve and laid it before him. This she said is what you saw me looking at just now. Why? He said in great surprise. This is the mirror that I brought as a gift to your mother when I went up to the Capitol many years ago. And so you have kept it all this time? Now why do you spend so much of your time before this mirror? Then she told him of her mother's last words, and of how she had promised to meet her child whenever she looked into the glass. But still the father could not understand the simplicity of his daughter's character

and not knowing that what she saw reflected in the mirror was in reality her own face and not that of her mother. What do you mean? He asked. I do not understand how you can meet the soul of your lost mother by looking in this mirror. It is indeed true, said the girl, and if you don't believe what I say, look for yourself. And she placed the mirror before her. There, looking back from the smooth, metal disc, was her own sweet face. She pointed to the reflection, seriously. Do you doubt me still? She asked earnestly, looking up into his face. With an exclamation of sudden understanding, the father smote his two hands together. At last I understand. Your face is as like your mother's as the two sides of a melon. Thus you have looked at the reflection of your face all this time, thinking that you were brought face to face with your lost mother. You are truly a faithful child. in constant remembrance of your lost mother has helped you to grow like her in character. How clever it was of her to tell you to do this. I admire and respect you my daughter, and I am ashamed to think that for one instant I believed your suspicious stepmother's story. Before you I have no countenance left, and I beg you to forgive me. And here the father wept. His daughters steadfastly keeping her faith and simplicity in the midst of such at first circumstances. Bearing all her troubles with so much patience and amoeuability, made him compare her to the lotus which rears its blossom of dazzling beauty out of the slime and mud of the moats and ponds, fitting and blum of a heart which keeps itself unsullied while passing through the world. The stepmother, anxious to know what would happen, had all this while been standing outside the room. She had grown interested and had gradually pushed the sliding screen back till she could see all that went on. At this moment she suddenly entered the room and, dropping to the mats, she bowed her head over her outspread hands before her step-daughter. I am ashamed. She exclaimed in broken tones. I did not know what a filial child you were, through no fault of yours, but with a step-mother's jealous heart, I have disliked you all the time. And when I saw you retire so often to your room, I followed you. And when I saw you gaze daily into the mirror for long intervals, I concluded that you had found out how I disliked you and and that you were out of revenge, trying to take my life by magic art. From this day I throw away my old and wicked heart, and in its place I put a new one, clean, and full of repentance. I shall think of you as a child that I have borne myself. I shall love and cherish you with all my heart, and thus try to make up for all the unhappiness I have caused you. Therefore, please throw into the water, all that has gone before, and give me, I beg of you, some of the filial love that you have hitherto given to your own lost mother. Thus did the stepmother humble herself and ask forgiveness of the girl she had so wronged. Such was the sweetness of the girl's disposition that she willingly forgave her stepmother. From this time on, the three lived together as happily as fish in water. No such trouble ever darkened the home again, and the young girl gradually forgot that year of unhappiness in the tender love and care that her stepmother now bestowed on her, her patience and goodness

were rewarded at last. Thank you.