I was 6 years old at the time, a 1^st grade student at the national elementary school. My home was in Teppo-cho (900m from the Hypocenter). There were four of us living there: my father (aged 40), my mother (aged 33), my younger sister (aged 2) and me. School classes were held, but since it was during the war, I remember that in most classes we were taught to hide under our desks or in safe places to protect ourselves from air raids.
　My mother told me that at the time, flyers were falling from the sky saying that a big bomb was going to fall on Hiroshima, and my father firmly told my mother to leave the city, so we evacuated to her parents' house in Kochi Village, Futami County. My father had a job and was the caretaker of the town, so he stayed in Hiroshima.
　On August 7, 1945, I heard someone say "Yesterday, the biggest bomb ever seen fell on Hiroshima." Since we were unable to contact my father, on August 9, my aunt and mother took my sister and I and the four of us went to Hiroshima City to look for him.

　After walking about 6km from Kochi Village, we arrived at Miyoshi Station. People who had been exposed to the atomic bomb in Hiroshima were even being brought to Miyoshi Station, which is about 60km away from the Hypocenter. Their hair was burnt out and gone, their faces were swollen and reddish-black, and their eyes were smashed in; it was hard to tell if they were male or female. A dirty gray cloth was draped from the neck down and they were carried in on stretchers. We asked each other, "Do you see father among those people?" And the four of us looked into their faces, but none of them was him. I was six years old and could not help but wonder how they got such big, swollen, reddish-black faces. I still remember that scene.
　We took a train from Miyoshi Station to Hiroshima Station. Stepping outside, I was surprised to see that buildings had burned down as far as the eye could see, and the city of Hiroshima seemed to have disappeared. The ground was still hot in some places. We walked around searching for my father in various places, including the air-raid shelter of our home in Hiroshima, but could not find him. That day, we spent the night sitting on the ground under the eaves of the building of the police station near Hiroshima Station, where a relative worked.
　We left there early the next morning on the 10th and walked back toward Teppo-cho. I saw a person resting against a charred tree root, and I said, "Oh, that could be dad!" I ran to him and looked into his face. I walked around looking for my father, checking one by one, many people resting on the roadside or in the square. The people sitting or lying down were all naked. Not only their faces but also their whole bodies were puffy and discolored reddish-black, and they looked to me as if they were sumo wrestler ghosts.
　My father and mother had previously promised that they would go to an acquaintance's house in Ushita if something terrible happened, so we went to the house and found that my father had evacuated there. When my father was at home when the bomb was dropped, a large pillar fell on his head and he was so badly injured that his brain was visible, and a white cloth was draped over his head. I could see his eyes through the cloth and clearly recognized him as my father when he called my name, "Oh, is that Tomiko?" I still remember how relieved and happy I was that I had finally found him.

　My father had a severe head injury but did not appear to have been burned. My mother's sister, who lived in Yano-cho, Aki County, rented a big two-wheeled cart to carry my father and came to pick him up, so we went to stay at her house.
　In Yano-cho, my mother carried my father in a small wheelbarrow used for carrying things, for regular treatment at a nearby hospital. My father's head wound had maggots coming out of it, which were removed at the hospital. My father was saying, "My chest burns, my chest is painful." Everyone was talking about how he must be having chest pains because he inhaled gas. It was not until much later that we learned that he had actually inhaled radioactive material, not gas. At that time, no one knew about radiation.
　School resumed on September 1, and I was transferred from Nobori-cho National School to a school in Kochi Village, where I lived with my mother's family.
　On September 14, my mother came to Kochi Village with my sister on her back and my father's remains in her arms, saying, "Your father is dead." Before he died, my father told my mother, "I don't want to die yet...take care of Tomiko and the others."

　In August, when our family was staying at my aunt's house in Yano, my mother once went to our family air-raid shelter at our home in Teppo-cho and brought back a can of milk she had stored inside. The can that had been exposed to the bomb was deformed, and when opened, the powdered milk had hardened like candy. We hit it with a hammer, broke it into pieces, and ate them saying, "Delicious, delicious."
　Later, when I was living in Kochi Village, I was in the second grade and my face and hands and feet were covered with boils. I remember my mother giving me a herbal infusion to drink. She did all kinds of things to help me. In addition, my gums began to bleed, but I could not tell my mother about it as I did not want to worry her any more than I already was. Now that I think about it, I believe that I became ill because of radioactive contamination, as I walked around Hiroshima City immediately after the bombing looking for my father and eat powdered milk that had been exposed to radiation.
　My family was taken care of by my mother's family for the next ten years, and thanks to them, we did not have to worry about having enough to eat. When I was in my first year of commercial studies at Miyoshi High School, my mother found a job in Hiroshima, so I transferred to Hiroshima Prefectural Commercial High School in my second year.
　When I graduated from high school, I was worried because I had heard a rumor that it was difficult for children from single-parent families to find jobs, but thankfully I was able to find a job and worked there for six years. During a job interview, at the end of the interview, the interviewer asked me, "By the way, do you remember your father who passed away?" When I answered, "Yes, I only remember a little bit, but..." tears started to stream down my face. I think, in the back of my mind, I always missed my father. I unexpectedly burst into tears and went home sobbing. I felt so much loneliness without my father, and I was so sad.

　I have been anemic and had low blood pressure since I was young. At age 65 I had surgery for breast cancer. I also receive regular medical treatment for a thyroid condition.
　My sister had surgery for colon cancer and uterine fibroids.
　My mother continued to work despite her anemia and low blood pressure, and she raised us sisters. She never said this to me directly, but I heard that to others she said "I didn't have time to cry. I was so busy trying to feed my two children that I didn't have time to cry."
　I never want people today to go through the hard, sad experience that we did. What I would like to share with you is how important peace is in life. And that having parents, brothers and sisters, grandparents, and friends is a blessing. It is not a "natural" thing that we can take for granted.
　Please, everyone, value your own life. Please value the lives of your friends as much as you value your own. Let's get along with each other. Let us talk and understand each other. I believe this is the starting point for world peace.