My grandmother was born on a remote island a short distance from the mainland, where she was engaged in livestock breeding and farming.
She mainly raised livestock such as cows and chickens, which she sold at the market to make a living.
I loved talking with my grandmother and we talked a lot.
One of the things that struck me was why my grandmother disliked chicken.
She said that livestock were sometimes eaten in her own home, and they would do the prep work themselves.
Although my grandmother did not directly process the meat, I would often see the process.
One day, when my grandmother, who was in elementary school, came home from school, there was no one at home.
She wondered if they were working in the barn, and when she looked in, she found her grandmother’s father draining the blood from the chickens.
He cut off the heads of the limp chickens and hung them upside down to dry.
For my grandmother, who was not used to seeing this, it was a sight she would never forget for the rest of her life.
The meat that was supposed to be the chicken would be served at the dinner table, but when she remembered it, her chopsticks wouldn’t stretch, and even as an adult, she never willingly ate chicken from her grandmother’s mouth.
It was a shocking experience for my grandmother, but animals live by taking life in the first place.
Being keenly aware of this, my grandmother often stressed to others the importance of life and food.
My grandmother had a strong inspiration, and not only did she have a broad face, but animals also seemed to love her, and she always had some kind of animal with her.
She said, “They just roll in on their own, but I can’t pass them up.”
She would say that and enthusiastically take care of the animals.
I loved my grandmother like that, but there was one story she told me that I could not believe.
It was about a century ago, when my grandmother was about to reach adulthood.
She told me that in the barn, her father and mother were watching over the mother cows as they gave birth.
While my grandmother and the rest of the family were relaxing at home, the father came in looking very pale and shouted.
“…the Kudan,’s born!”
When everyone rushed to the barn, the mother, perhaps disheartened, slumped down and stared in the direction of the cows.
Ahead of her eyes was a newborn calf.
But the mother said that the calf’s face looked just like a human’s.
The barn was closed and only the father had access.
There was no telephone, so he sent a telegram, and a few days later, a large group of people from who-knows-where arrived in a car and did something in the barn.
After talking to his father, they left as if a storm had passed.
When we looked at the barn later, we found that both the cows and the mother cow were gone.
He said, “I’m selling this land and going to live somewhere else.”
The father said, I received good news about the cost of moving and a new location.
He said there was nothing to worry about and that we would start anew.
No one would object, so my grandmother and her family left their hometown and moved to their current location.
Even more surprisingly, after seeing the Kudan, my grandmother said that she had the gift of precognition.
However, when I asked my grandmother about her future, she would just brushed it off or not give me the slightest clue.
I wanted to believe that she was lying, but on rare occasions, a few well-dressed adults would visit her.
And somehow, my grandmother was rich.
Kudan is known as a specter that always leaves a prophecy that comes true.
I wonder if it is possible that this ability was transferred to my grandmother, who was an animal lover.
Now that my grandmother and other close relatives have passed away, I asked my parents about it before they died.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
I have never heard of such a thing.
It is unbelievable, but I don’t think my grandmother is lying.
