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My father was a medical doctor missionary who started a hospital in Osaka in the early 50's. Our family lived in Japan for 25 years. My mother had a passion for Japanese antiques, collecting imari with an intuitive understanding of high quality. It was amazing to me that she, who grew up on a farm in Illinois, the daughter of Slovene immigrants, was able to pick out the museum quality pieces in dusty junk shops.
Growing up with these beautiful antiques was sometimes a burden. We had to be so careful with them. "Don't use a knife on that plate!" "Wipe each dish right after you wash It!" "Don't stack them up". It wasn't until I had grown up that I could really begin to appreciate them. I learned from my mother that these pieces of beauty were worth bothering about and caring for. That they are not just decoration but treasures that enrich our lives.
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