Mrs. Sano, my Japanese mother called me yesterday to check on us.
She reminded me that the doll festival Hina Matsuri was coming on March 3rd next week.
She wanted me to respect the traditions for our little Héloïse. I’m going to have to look into my dusty boxes and find the two dolls that she had given me while I was staying with her Osaka.
The dolls came from her own mother. They are valuable even if they are not that beautiful anymore.
Quickly, quickly, I need to find a shoe box to create the stage.
Quickly, quickly, I have to dress the Emperor and the Empress of Heian elegantly so that they protect the daughter of the house.
I let you hear the comments of Héloïse:
“Maman, Heian, Heian, are you really sure that’s the name of an era? I’m telling you it’s Héloïse in Japanese. Mrs. Sano never knows how to say my name correctly, this is the proof!”
Quickly, quickly, take a picture of her beautiful French granddaughter in front of the Japanese heirloom.
The dolls, they scare me. I find them too rigid and too sad.
Héloïse has another point of view:
“They stand straight and they are well dressed like the young girls of the Yamanote-sen!”