In Tokyo I had a garden and in this garden I was growing vegetables myself. I had a fairly big garden and many vegetables. And so every morning I used to go for a walk after having watered them and so on; I used to walk around to choose which vegetables I could take for eating. Well just imagine! there were some which said to me "No no no no no."... And then there were others which called and I saw them from a distance and they were saying "Take me take me take me!" So it was very simple, I  looked for those which wanted to be taken and never did I touch those which did not. I used to think it was something exceptional. I loved my plants very much I used to look after them, I had put a lot of conscious­ness into them while watering them cleaning them so I thought they had a special capacity perhaps.

But in France it was the same thing. I had a garden also in the south of France where I used to grow peas radishes carrots. Well there were some which were happy which asked to be taken and eaten and there were those which said "No no no don't touch me don't touch me!" (Laughter)

Why did they say that, Sweet Mother?

Well i experimented precisely to find out; and the result was not always the same. At times it was in­deed that the plant was not edible; it was not good it was hard or bitter it was not good for eating. At other times it happened that it was not ready, that it was too early; it wasn't ripe. By waiting for a day or two, a day or two later it said to me, "Take me, take me, take me!" (Laughter)

The Mother
23 June 1954