Girl’s origami project benefits Celilo Cancer Center

“Sylvia delivered her donation, a display of cranes and a letter of intent when she was invited to meet with personnel at Celilo,” she said. “The cancer center employees told her about the wonderful ripple effect she had created by helping others.”

Below is Moores’ letter:

I recently learned how to make an origami crane. I have loved origami my whole life. It’s an ancient art from Japan. You fold a square of paper and, in the end, you have a wonderful object that seems almost alive within itself. The cranes I made looked so serene and calm; I wanted to share this with others. I decided to sell my cranes for $1 apiece. My mother suggested I donate some of the money I earned to charity. Yet, as I researched origami cranes, I found out that there is much more background to them than there appears.

There is a legend that one who folds 1,000 cranes would be granted a wish. The more I read on, the more important this had become to me.

In 1943, a baby girl was born. Her name was Sadako Sasaki. At age 2, she was in her house when she experienced the atomic bombing. She escaped unscathed, and she and her family lived with a relative until they found a new house.

A decade passed. At age 12, Sadako was diagnosed with leukemia. She was given one year to live. She soon found out about the legend and began folding.

Some say she only made 644. This is not true. She made her goal and continued on. She wished to live. Sadako made approximately 1,400. I finished reading, and I thought, “I want to donate 50 percent of the money I make off of my cranes to the cancer center.” My grandmother had had lung cancer, so this seemed appropriate.

I thought 1,000 cranes were too many. I decided to only fold 100. I got started. A lot of customers tipped and donated. One woman paid me $10 for one!

Because of how many of my clients donated, I raised $140.30 instead of $100. This project has made me so happy. I have seen so many people walk away smiling with a crane. They experienced the same feeling of content joy when I folded a crane for the first time.

— Sylvia Moores