Yoshiki Hirabayashi was born in 1922 in Mayfield, California (now part of Palo Alto). He lived in Japan in his early childhood but was returned to the United States in his teen years. Mr. Hirabayashi has been interested in origami for many years. He has long been actively involved in the teaching and demonstrating of this art in schools, churches, Girl Scout and Boy Scout meetings, senior citizen clubs, and Japanese festival and culture shows in the Bay Area. Mr. Hirabayashi is a charter and life member of the West Valley Japanese American Citizens League.

The crane is a favorite subject for origami. Japan's magnificent red-crested crane, the tsuru, is protected as a national treasure. These birds live in the marshy land of the Kushiro river region of Hokkaido from their May mating season until November, when they migrate south. Since the tsuru is the closest cousin of the endangered North American whooping crane, it has been suggested that interbreeding with the tsuru might offer one means of preserving the American whooping crane. 

In Japan, the tsuru is a symbol of leadership, as a Japanese proverb reminds us: "The cry of the crane denotes the voice of authority." The Japanese have always regarded the crane--usually in association with the turtle--as a symbol of good fortune and especially of longevity. According to Japanese folklore, the crane lives a thousand years and the turtle ten thousand. The crane is also a symbol of courage, and the Japanese cherish the legend of Sadaye Imagawn, a 14th-century nobleman and celebrated warrior who loved the fashionable sport of falconry. One day, Sadaye sent his hawk up after a crane. The graceful bird was too much for one hawk, so Sadaye sent up a second hawk to assist the first. Finally they brought it down, and the falconer, according to custom, came to cut a piece of flesh from the crane as a reward for the hawks. As he approached, Sadaye watched the crane closely, noting that it neither flinched nor showed any sign of fear, instead remaining quiet as if resigned to the inevitable. The bird, he noted, exhibited the same spirit that was the virtue of a great warrior. Sadaye released the crane and never hunted again. According to legend, he later retired to a Buddhist monastery and became a famous poet, living to the age of 95. Perhaps his sparing of the crane was an omen for his own long life.

Because it is a happy and beautiful token, the flying crane--or many flying cranes--is a favorite motif in Japanese art. It is found worked into shining tapestries, carved ivory, ceramics, metal sculptures, silk kimonos, and almost every form of craft, as well as paintings and wood-block prints. And, of course, cranes are a favorite subject for origami, one well worth the challenge. Almost every Japanese school child learns to fold cranes. Schoolgirls and older women fold them by the hundreds and thousands for good luck. Folded cranes of all sizes are often strung on thread and hung from the ceiling to decorate a room. Long strings of folded cranes may be hung in a hotel room as a compliment to the guest. Hung in a temple or shrine they serve either as a petition or as a thanksgiving for prayers answered.