有限会社 芳美商事

水仙の花が咲く頃

ある晩秋の夜、東京のとある街角に一軒の小さな甘味処がありました。店の名は「金盞香庵（きんせんかあん）」。この店は、落ち着いた和の雰囲気に包まれ、甘いお団子や温かいお茶が名物の、知る人ぞ知る隠れ家でした。今日もひとつの物語が、ここで始まります。

登場人物は、あるサラリーマンの男性・健一（けんいち）、彼の幼い娘・美咲（みさき）、そして、この金盞香庵の女主人・澄子（すみこ）。健一は妻を早くに亡くし、仕事に追われながらも、娘と二人で精一杯の毎日を送っていました。

この日は、ちょうど11月の第3日曜日、「家族の日」。健一はいつものように仕事に追われ、忙しい日々を過ごしていましたが、そんな中でふと気がつきました。今日は美咲とちゃんと向き合って、家族の時間を大切にしたい、と。そんな思いから、彼は娘の手を引き、偶然通りかかった「金盞香庵」の暖簾をくぐることにしました。

店の中は、静かで温かな灯りがともり、どこか懐かしい香りが漂っていました。二人が席につくと、女主人の澄子がにっこりと微笑んで、ほうじ茶を運んできました。「今日は特別な日ですね。ご家族で来てくださってうれしいです。」と、彼女は言いました。

健一は驚いて「どうして特別だと？」と尋ねると、澄子は笑って答えました。「今日は『金盞香』が咲く日、つまり、晩秋の終わりを告げる時。家族の日でもあり、そして二の酉の日でもありますからね。あなたたちが来るのは、何かのご縁でしょう。」

澄子は、いつもは人見知りの美咲に特別なお団子を出してくれました。その団子は、小さな金色の菊の花びらが飾られていて、「金盞香」と名付けられていました。美咲は初めての体験に目を輝かせ、健一も少し微笑みながらそれを見守ります。

店を出た後、澄子は「ぜひ、酉の市に行ってみてはいかが？」と勧めました。健一は迷いましたが、美咲が「行きたい！」と強く希望したため、浅草の「鷲神社」へと向かいました。そこは、酉の市の真っ最中で、賑やかで煌びやかな熊手が所狭しと並び、参拝客で溢れていました。

健一は、商売繁盛や家族の安全を祈願しながら、ある小さな熊手に目をとめました。それは、金色の鳥が描かれたもので、「家族の絆」を象徴するようなデザインでした。彼は娘の手を握りしめ、その熊手を購入しました。

家に帰る途中、美咲は健一にこう言いました。「お父さん、今日はとても楽しかったね。ずっとこんな風に一緒にいられたらいいな。」健一は心の中で、自分が仕事に追われ、どれだけ大切な時間を見失っていたかを痛感しました。

その夜、健一は新しく手に入れた熊手を飾り、「家族の日」のために、少しだけ仕事を減らす決心をしました。美咲の無邪気な笑顔を思い出しながら、「また来年も、この時期に二人で酉の市に行こうな。」と優しく声をかけました。

窓の外には、ほんの少しだけ残った秋の名残り、金盞香の香りが漂っているような気がしました。

それからというもの、健一と美咲は毎年この時期になると「金盞香庵」を訪れ、家族で過ごす時間を大切にしました。そして、毎年のように酉の市で熊手を買い、その年の思い出を少しずつ積み重ねていったのです。

澄子はその様子を、店の片隅から静かに見守りながら、いつものように美しい笑顔で二人を迎え続けました。

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When the daffodils bloom.

On a late autumn evening in Tokyo, there stood a small, cozy sweet shop called Kinsenka-an (“Golden Cup Blossom Teahouse”). Known only to a few, this hidden gem offered a warm, traditional Japanese atmosphere and was famous for its sweet dango (rice dumplings) and steaming tea. This is where our story begins.

Our main characters are Kenichi, a hardworking salaryman, his young daughter Misaki, and the shop’s owner, Sumiko. Kenichi lost his wife at an early age and had been raising his daughter alone, juggling the demands of work with his responsibilities as a single father.

This particular day was the third Sunday of November, designated in Japan as Kazoku no Hi or “Family Day.” It’s a day to celebrate the importance of family bonds, established by the Japanese government in 2007 to address the challenges of a decreasing birthrate. Busy with work as usual, Kenichi suddenly felt a deep desire to spend quality time with his daughter, Misaki, who had been patiently waiting for him. Guided by a spur-of-the-moment decision, he took her hand and stepped into Kinsenka-an when they happened to pass by its warm, welcoming entrance.

Inside the shop, gentle lighting cast a nostalgic glow, and a familiar, comforting aroma filled the air. They took a seat, and Sumiko brought over a pot of roasted tea, smiling gently. “Today is a special day, isn’t it? It’s nice to see you with your family,” she said with a knowing expression.

Surprised, Kenichi asked, “Why do you say it’s special?” Sumiko smiled again and replied, “Today marks the time of Kinsenka (Golden Cup), a seasonal marker in Japan, signaling the end of late autumn. It’s also Family Day, and coincidentally, the day of the Second Tori no Ichi festival.” The Tori no Ichi is a traditional fair held at Shinto shrines with connections to birds, like Ōtori (“Big Bird”) shrines, occurring annually on days associated with the zodiac sign of the Rooster in November.

With a warm smile, Sumiko brought a special dango for Misaki. It was delicately decorated with small golden petals that resembled Kinsenka, the flower symbolizing this time of year. Misaki, usually shy around strangers, looked at the treat with wide eyes, delighted by its beauty, while Kenichi watched her with a rare, tender smile.

As they prepared to leave, Sumiko suggested, “Why not visit the Tori no Ichi festival at Ōtori Jinja Shrine tonight?” Kenichi hesitated, as he still had unfinished work, but Misaki’s excited plea convinced him. They made their way to Asakusa, one of Tokyo’s oldest neighborhoods, where the famous festival was in full swing.

The shrine was alive with energy, filled with colorful stalls, bright lanterns, and festive crowds. Everywhere they looked, decorative kumade rakes—symbolic items shaped like giant rakes that promise to “rake in” good fortune—were being sold. These rakes, often adorned with gold and lucky charms, are a traditional item bought for prosperity and good luck in the coming year.

Kenichi, feeling the festive atmosphere, stopped in front of a particular kumade. It was small, but it had a golden bird at its center, a symbol of family unity and protection. He bought it, feeling a strange but comforting connection to this symbol of hope and luck.

On their way home, Misaki looked up at her father with bright eyes and said, “Daddy, today was so much fun! I wish we could always spend time together like this.” Kenichi, realizing how much he had been missing while drowning in his work, silently resolved to spend more time with his daughter. He held her hand tightly, and with a gentle smile, he said, “Let’s make this our tradition, Misaki. We’ll come to this festival together every year.”

Back at home, Kenichi placed the kumade in a special place, a small reminder of the promise he’d made that night—to prioritize his family. The subtle scent of autumn seemed to linger in the air, carrying the essence of Kinsenka, the fleeting beauty of late autumn flowers.

From that year onward, Kenichi and Misaki made it a point to visit Kinsenka-an every November. They cherished the time they spent together, slowly building a collection of small kumade rakes, each symbolizing a year’s worth of memories and hopes for the future.

Sumiko, who always welcomed them with the same warm smile, watched quietly from the corner of her shop, as if she knew that they, too, were adding to the unspoken tradition of this special season.