Mrs. Three Hundred Rice Fields

This morning I thought a little about a woman I met about two years ago. Not sure why; I just do from time to time. It was one of my first days teaching at my visit school. At the time, I wasn't used to rude students and their antics, so it was a somewhat disheartening and rather draining day. That night I took a couple of trains, as I have for a long time now, and instead of walking home from the station, I took the bus. At that time I wasn't very familiar with the geography of my town, so I couldn't walk it. Anyway, I slumped onto the bench at the bus stop. There was an elderly woman sitting next to me. "You look tired!" she exclaimed, and handed me a little hard candy to suck on. Somewhat surprised, I accepted the losange. We talked for a few minutes while we waited for the bus. She was a retired teacher living in the same neighborhood as I was. She told me that she had a somewhat long and unusual name: 三百田 (Sanbyakuda)。Three hundred rice fields. On the bus we parted ways. She gave me her address on a piece of paper and told me that if I had any problems, I should let her know. That piece of paper is, unfortunately, long gone - carelessly misplaced and lost soon after receiving it.

A few days later, a red tupperware container appeared in my mailbox. On top was a small note - "Please eat this. - Sanbyakuda". Inside were about a million little dead fish mixed with seaweed or something. Now I'm not a very picky eater and am usually up for trying new thing, but the smell and appearance of this thing was just too much...I stuck it in the freezer for some reason (hoping it would turn into ice cream?) and then later that week, when no magic happened, I tossed it in the trash. 

That was the last I heard from Mrs. Sanbyakuda. Sometimes I wonder how she's doing, and I feel a little bad about throwing out her stinky little fish after she went to the trouble of tracking me down and preparing that for me, and about never trying to contact her. Though I remember her name, I don't really remember what she looks like - just another little old Japanese lady. Perhaps the saddest part is that I may have seen her or sat next to her at the bus stop since then, and I wouldn't even know...