Why Morning Glories Remind Japanese People of First Grade

 Morning glories grow in many parts of the world. In Japan, they bring back memories of a first-grade summer for many people. I’m one of those people. A few years ago, my daughter started elementary school and began growing morning glories. Until then, I had never realized why they always reminded me of this particular summer. 

In this column, I would like to explore why this flower is so closely tied to those memories through my experience with my daughter. 

 In Japan, growing morning glories is a familiar part of first grade. When I looked into this tradition, I learned that it dates back to shortly after World War II. Originally, morning glories were not the only choice for this activity. But they gradually became popular at many schools because they grow quickly and are easy to care for. Over the years, a lot of first graders have grown them. 

That was when I began to understand why morning glories feel so nostalgic to so many people here. 

During summer vacation, my daughter brought her morning glories home from school. Every evening, we would check the buds. We enjoyed finding buds that were starting to swell. “It looks like it might bloom tomorrow morning,” one of us would say. This little routine became something we looked forward to every day. As I watched the morning glories grow with my daughter, I felt as if I were reliving my own first-grade summer all over again. 

Once summer vacation was over, we were back to our usual routine. My daughter came home from school one day and said, “We cut down the morning glory vines today.”  Hearing this, I felt a little sad, as though our time with the morning glories had come to an end.  But later, my daughter decorated the vines with beads and ribbons at school and made them into a wreath. When I saw the wreath she brought home, I felt happy. I had thought the morning glories were gone. But there they were again. 

Then my daughter told me, “The seeds we collected are going to be given to next year’s first graders.” At that moment, I realized our summer would become part of someone else’s. 

 Whenever I see morning glories now, I don’t just see the flowers; I see the summer when my daughter and I shared so many small discoveries and moments of joy. 

Seeing them always fills me with a quiet warmth. I can’t help wondering if that family’s first grader is having a summer like the one we once shared. 

If you happen to see morning glories in Japan during the summer, I hope you’ll take a moment to look at them. Those bright flowers may be part of a first grader’s summer right now—a summer they’ll remember for years to come.