by Yoko D. Lopez

This year, I had the opportunity to return to Ojiba and experience the Children’s Pilgrimage, also known as Kodomo Ojiba Gaeri (KOG), with my daughter, Naomi. There was so much anticipation leading up to the trip, and with a one-and-a-half-year-old, I wasn’t quite sure what the week would look like. Now that we are home and I’ve had time to reflect, I feel more certain than ever that Ojiba and KOG are truly special experiences.

The week had its challenges. The summer heat made it difficult to participate in every event, and Naomi was feeling a little under the weather at times. But even amidst the challenges, there were moments I know I will carry with me for a long time. Most meaningful of all was bringing Naomi to the Main Sanctuary for the first time and watching her take part in the morning and evening services at the 38 Moya, seated service practice, and the monthly service at the Main Sanctuary.

There are certain sounds that bring me instantly back to my own KOG memories—the voices of everyone performing the service together, and especially the beautiful sound of the service echoing from inside the Main Sanctuary. It is a sound that feels like home.

Watching Naomi learn to bow her little head and clap her hands along with everyone was incredibly meaningful. And now that we are home, I often catch her practicing her little “pachi pachi,” followed by an “arigatou” when she finishes. It melts my heart every time. She may be so young, but I like to believe that something from that week has taken root—a small seed that, with time and care, can grow into her own love and connection to the faith.

There was so much joy beyond the services, too: making new friends, watching Naomi play with her cousins from Texas, and seeing her showered with hugs and snuggles from her aunties and uncles—many of whom I grew up attending KOG and Oyasato Seminar with. Seeing another generation experience the same community and love that shaped so much of my childhood made the week feel especially meaningful.

I was also deeply inspired by all the parents and staff who worked so tirelessly throughout the week. Their constant care—making sure the children were hydrated, comfortable, safe, and having fun—was a beautiful reminder of how much love goes into creating this experience for our children. Their efforts did not go unnoticed, and I am so grateful.

Every summer growing up, my parents worked incredibly hard to bring our whole family to KOG. As a child, I simply knew that we were going to Tenri. As a parent now, I look back and realize just how much effort, sacrifice, and love went into giving us those summers. I am in awe of them in a way I don’t think I fully understood before.

This time, I was able to see KOG through a different set of eyes—as a mother, watching my own child take her first little steps into a place that has meant so much to me.

I hope I can continue to grow as a parent and give Naomi many opportunities to return to Ojiba, participate in KOG, and build her own memories there. And perhaps, years from now, she will hear the sound of the service and feel what I felt this summer: that familiar, comforting feeling of being home.