petal five
She and I would often fall into endless conversations about tea, especially matcha, whenever she stepped into our store. It became a quiet ritual, a space where time slowed down as we discussed the subtleties of different blends, ceremonial practices, and the memories tied to them. Over the years, as she and her partner attended tea events around the city, they made it a point to bring back thoughtful gifts: a new blend, a tool, or a story from their latest experience. Tea became our shared language, deepening our connection well beyond a simple storefront relationship.
Visiting the store was part of her weekend walking routine. One afternoon, she came in with a soft sparkle in her eyes and a small tin of matcha tucked into her bag, asking if we could prepare it together. I set up our usual spot on the bench with the chawan (tea bowl for matcha) and bamboo whisk. As we began to whisk, she shared the story of her recent trip to Boston.
She had traveled there with college friends to visit her first Japanese tea ceremony teacher—the person who had introduced her to the art of matcha years ago. The visit was bittersweet; her teacher was struggling with severe dementia. In their hands, they carried a very specific matcha: Taho no Mukashi (多宝の昔), which translates to “old many treasures.”
They gathered together, whisked the tea, and served it to their teacher, uncertain of what to expect. But as she took a sip, something quiet and beautiful unfolded. A warm, familiar smile spread across her face—a sign that somewhere deep within, the memory of their shared tea moments had surfaced. In that gentle smile, their anxiety melted away, replaced by a profound peace.
Listening to her, I felt tears welling in my eyes. The connection between teacher and student, the weight of their shared history, and the quiet healing power of tea resonated so deeply. As we sipped the Taho no Mukashi together on the bench, it felt like more than a bowl of tea. It carried memory, friendship, gratitude, and the fleeting grace of being together.
Old many treasures.
Perhaps that is what a bowl of tea can hold: not just the tea itself, but the people, places, memories, and moments that gather around it. Some moments disappear almost as soon as they arrive. Others remain quietly within us, waiting to return. Each bowl becomes part of the tapestry of a life—one small thread of connection among thousands of moments that, together, become our story.