When I was in the first or second grade my teacher told me a story which I never forgot. And the reason it has come to my mind now is because of Kuniko.
The story is about a little Japanese boy 6 years old who now lived in American with his mother and father.
His friends called him Terry but his mother insisted he be called by his Japanese name.
One day when he was playing he had an accident. His friend knocked on his friend's mother's door and screamed...Terry Terry Timko Mushka Rimbo Berri Berri Bushkie fell in the well.
By the time he uttered up all those names...little Terry had drowned.
I guess the moral to that story was shortening a name is not all that bad.
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