Thank You Without Saying

JAPAN Forward launched its "Ignite" series of English essays to directly share the voices of students in Japan with their global peers. For high school student Haruto Tsuchiya, the big question was how mutual interest and appreciation could be communicated beyond the simple words of "thank you." Sharing his insights, he is one of the next generation leading the way and vaulting us beyond our imagined limits.

His contribution is the 22nd winning English essay in the series, Ignite. For his contribution, he won two awards, including the grand prize from the Institute for International Business Communication (IIBC) and the America-Japan Society President's Award in 2025. How can we apply his lessons in this multi-cultural world? Let's listen.

Twenty-second in the Series, 'Ignite'

Haruto Tsuchiya, Winner of the 2025 IIBC Grand Prize and the America-Japan Society President's Award for His English Language Essay.

When I was in elementary school, there was a classmate with a disability. He rarely spoke in class and often kept to himself. During lessons, whenever he struggled with something, our teacher would gently ask others to support him. One day, it was my turn.

I remember walking over to his desk, trying to smile and speak kindly. I explained the task slowly and clearly, pointing to things in his notebook and offering help wherever I could. He followed along silently. He didn't nod, didn't look me in the eye — just quietly did what I suggested. I tried to tell myself that maybe he was shy, or simply not used to this kind of interaction. But honestly, I was bothered. I had expected something — a small "thank you," a smile, anything.

After I returned to my seat, I kept looking at him out of the corner of my eye. Nothing changed. He didn't acknowledge me once. I felt invisible. And maybe a little frustrated. I had done something kind — wasn't I supposed to feel appreciated? That evening, I kept replaying the moment in my mind. I wasn't angry at him, but I felt disappointed, and even confused. Maybe I had misunderstood the whole situation.

The next morning, I arrived at school as usual. When I got to my desk, I noticed something new on top of my books: a small card, neatly folded. Inside, written in careful letters, was a simple message: "Thank you."

Something Changed

There was no name. But somehow, I knew exactly who had left it. His name didn't need to be there — the message itself carried enough weight. I glanced across the room and saw him quietly preparing for class, just as always. No glance, no wave. Just a quiet presence. But everything felt different now.

That moment changed how I understood communication.

Until then, I had believed that gratitude should follow certain rules — that words or gestures like smiling, nodding, or saying "thank you" were necessary to complete the cycle of kindness. But now, I realized something far more important: gratitude is not about formality — it's about sincerity. For my classmate, words may not have come easily. But he had taken the time to write a message, fold a card, and secretly leave it on my desk. It was a quiet act, but one filled with thought and care.

This experience made me rethink the very meaning of communication. We often define it in terms of language, tone, and body language. But in truth, communication is simply the effort to connect — to make our thoughts and feelings known, regardless of the method. For some, it's through speech; for others, through writing, drawing, or action. What matters is not the form, but the heart behind it.

Louder than Words

Since then, I've become more attentive to the silent ways people express themselves — the friend who sits beside you without saying a word when you're feeling down, the stranger who holds the door a little longer than usual, the sibling who leaves your favorite snack on the table without a note. None of these things is spoken, but they are all forms of communication — and in many ways, they speak louder than words.

Looking back, I'm grateful that I was "bothered" by the silence. If I hadn't felt that discomfort, I might never have noticed the beauty in that quiet gesture the next day. Sometimes, a gap or a silence is not a lack of connection — it is an invitation to listen more carefully.

The world is full of unspoken messages. We just have to be open enough — and quiet enough — to hear them.

Today, I believe that the most powerful connections are built not only through eloquent words or grand gestures, but through small, heartfelt acts that often go unnoticed. A folded piece of paper. A handwritten note. A silent "thank you." These are the things that truly connect us.

About the Author:

Haruto Tsuchiya was a first-year student at Sendai Ikuei Gakuen Senior High School when he contributed this essay. Upon winning the IIBC Grand Prize and the America-Japan President's Award for his English essay, he shared these remarks:

"I am truly honored to receive the grand prize. Inspired by an experience I had in elementary school when a classmate with a disability expressed his gratitude to me through quiet actions rather than words, I wrote about how 'the essence of communication is thought' and 'the importance of silence.'

"As someone who is not familiar with English, writing this essay was difficult, but I am very happy that I was able to convey my thoughts. Silence is powerful because of words. In English, too, I would like to first learn words and then listen to silence.

"I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who has helped me with my English studies so far."