I have a half-Japanese cousin named Phil who lives in England. One day, Phil, his wife Sally, and their two young daughters came to stay with us. 

Phil's father is Japanese, and he wanted to show his family their Japanese roots, so it was part of a big trip around Japan, visiting his grandmother's hometown in Ishikawa Prefecture, Tokyo, Osaka, and Hiroshima. 

Although he's my cousin, I had only met Phil a few times before, and Sally and the girls were meeting me for the first time. 

Despite that, when I heard they were coming to Miyajima, I impulsively said, 'Then you should stay at our place, since Hatsukaichi City is where Miyajima is located.' 

Later, my uncle, Phil's father, thanked me, saying, 'It seems they really enjoyed staying in a house where Japanese people actually live. Thank you.' So, my invitation must not have been a mistake. 

It must have been a good international experience for our young children too. 

Furthermore, I've studied abroad, so my English skills are not a problem. 

However, apart from my cousin, I lack the interpersonal skills to casually host a family I'm meeting for the first time. 

My husband doesn't speak English, so I, who usually just smile in large gatherings, had to host by myself. 

It was a big deal. 

I welcomed the day in such a restless state, as if my diaphragm was floating a few centimeters higher than usual. 

Not knowing what was appropriate, for dinner, I decided to serve local specialties: oysters pickled in oil, tempura of small sardines, okonomiyaki, karaage, potato salad, and for dessert, kinako dango (soybean flour dumplings) that I ordered from an acquaintance's mochi shop. 

It was clearly too much food, and I ended up making Phil feel apologetic, as he choked heavily on the kinako and said, 'Sorry, I don't think we can finish all of this.' 

Sally, who is a baby photographer, was such a genuinely kind person and kept encouraging my awkward hosting with a constant smile. 

My husband, later, was more surprised by how much I talked – 'I've never seen you talk so much' – than by my British-accented English, which he heard for the first time. 

That's how hard I tried. 

After dinner, the five preschoolers each started playing, creating a heartwarming chaos. 

Eventually, one of the daughters began drawing her travel memories in a sketchbook. 

According to Sally, they had visited Hiroshima city, Peace Memorial Park, and in Miyajima, Itsukushima Shrine and Omotesando Shopping Street. 

Among them, what left the biggest impression on her daughter was the sight of deer walking on Miyajima's beach. 

Indeed, I had always taken it for granted that there are deer in Miyajima, but deer, which are supposed to be in the forest, being on the beach must certainly be a strange sight. 

“Amazing... Deer on the beach...” 

Singing these words, the daughter first drew a deer. 

The deer leisurely walking on the beach was quite well drawn. 

Next, she began coloring the blue of the ocean with her pen. 

Swish... Swish swish... 

Above the ocean, a bright light-blue sky stretched out, and she continued to color that too. 

Swish... Swish swish... 

Behind me, Sally was getting anxious, asking, 'The pen might go off onto the table, shouldn't we borrow something to put underneath?' But by then, my tension had eased, and I was exhausted, so I just replied, 'It's fine, don't worry about it,' and watched the daughter draw. 

I wanted to immerse myself a little longer in the pleasant sound of the pen and the scene of the deer and the beach that the daughter had seen. 

A vivid scene unfolded before my eyes, so clear that I could almost hear the crunch, crunch of the deer's hooves stepping on the sand. 

As the months passed, the fatigue from that day was completely forgotten, leaving only the enjoyable memories of that time and of the deer on the beach. 

The daughter who visited from across the sea made me realize a new charm of Miyajima.