You are about to learn one of life's continual lesson.   Time moves forward, the mill tore my heart the first time I saw it  three years ago. That is why I guess I was drawn to go there again because it was a monumental blow to us the people, that the last siren has blown.   I remember looking at the river flowing outward, the waves crashing violently against the base of the old mill, as though ebbing away at its skeleton.  The sagging roof, like an old man who could move no more. Inside I said, "there is my culture, my roots, my memories." Playing on the dirt roads, seeing the cane trucks driving by with stalks dragging on the ground.  There was the people who lived humbly and happily in all the camps throughout the state.  That "old man" provided life, built community, gave identity and united people of many tongues together. I don't want today,  I want yesterday.  I want the good old days back.  I used to catch swordtails, medakas, crayfish in the pumps.  I played hours and hours in the cane fields and walked in the flowing waters. Those days, we were raw innocence. But, Sara  that chawang bowl will always be in your roots.  The only way it can be taken away is if you devalue your ancestors.  When you saw the chawang piece, you felt the hearts of the plantation people. The "talking story" the visiting neighbors, the hot rice cooking over the kerosene stove. You saw men coming home at 3 pm taking off their soiled shirts, hanging their hats and maybe pulling out their pack of cigarette.  You saw neighbors working with neighbors at the mill.  The baseball games, the social gatherings. But, Sara, write about the past, hold it in print and in your heart. Move onward. Think what can a community be like in the future that will capture another young girl's heart and claim it's glory.  If we do not let go, it would be a limited vision.  That is not what history was meant to teach us. Mrs. Inouye told all of you that history is to learn from.  Can we continue to starve our people? The immigrants cut their ties and moved onwards.  They brought their roots to the new land and created something that we call, "The good old days." Their values, their innocence, their hard work and kindheartedness created the camp life. Our task is to create again, keep the values and take advantage of what we have today. But of all things be careful when we say, "Progress" Many of our people have thought that money and material conveniences brought happiness.  But think again. Sara, the plantation will never leave you. You spiritually wrapped your heart and soul around it yesterday. Sara, the ancestors are grateful that you came.  No one ever wants to be forgotten, they struggled for us, they prayed for our education, and to grow up to be whole descent virtuous individuals.  You were a welcome site with your vivid conciousness of their souls. Your grandpa left deep values in you.  But his time is over. Mrs. Inouye and all the people in your life will leave an impression with you, but you will move on.  Grow Sara, grow.