When he was still a child, Iwatake's father was lost at sea off Hawaii. With no food, his family was forced to move to Japan, where Iwatake joined the army during the war. He lost a brother when the bomb fell on Hiroshima. But over all the time one thing has remained unchanged. His parents bought a Christmas tree in 1937, and his family brings it out every Christmas since then, even when doing so meat risking arrest. "This tree was a shining light, because it was a symbol of unity in my family," Iwatake said as he and his wife put the final touches on the tree, which is about 3 - foot - tall. They took it out once again this year, "We have put this tree up every year for 70 years." Though he considers himself Buddhist, Iwatake was raised in a Christian tradition. He still keeps a photo of the tiny wooden church in Mauri where he and his five brothers went to church services and Sunday school. Christmas was always a special time. His father worked at a store, and Iwatake remembers the day he came home with a tree. It was nothing all that special, just metal - and - plastic, the kind of decoration that can easily be placed on a table, or in a corner somewhere. He got a string of lights, too, the kind with the big bulbs  . Soon after, his father died in a fishing accident. His body was never found. Iwatake's mother had  s in Japan, and took Iwatake's younger brothers there. Iwatake stayed behind to graduate from high school. In 1941, six months before Pearl Harbor  , he moved to Japan as well. "Things were bad," he said. "There were war clouds hanging everywhere." The Christmas tree is so dear to Iwatake because   _  .
it was bought in 1937 it was loved by his father it helps to keep the house bright it brings back a good memory of his family