There have been many times the last 10 months when words did not do Tadd Fujikawa justice. What he was doing, or even what he was trying to do, was simply beyond comprehension.

It has happened on the golf course, in social settings and corporate meetings, before a few folks, hundreds of strangers and thousands of "aunties" and "uncles." People have been at a loss for words in English, Japanese and any number of languages.

So, as Hawai'i's second-most famous golfing prodigy plays the first round of the final event of his remarkable 2007, those closest to him have been reduced to this definition of the little guy with the huge grin: Tadd is Tadd.

"I don't know how else to explain it," said Kevin Bell, Fujikawa's agent. "He's got a way of making people feel comfortable around him and a personality that draws people to him. He can talk about golf and his experiences on tours. He can just talk story."

Today, he can talk turkey with the people most responsible for his inner fortitude and amiable nature. The Fujikawas, with an entourage of 10 family and friends, are in Japan this Thanksgiving. Tadd is playing the Casio World Open, with Hilo's Greg Meyer and the rest of the Japan Golf Tour Organization.

Fujikawa, 16, is trying to make his first cut since turning pro in July. That came after his shocking 20th-place finish at the Sony Open in Hawai'i in January, when he became the youngest, and probably shortest, in 50 years to make a PGA Tour cut.

He is also trying to find turkey. The other two times he was away from home on this holiday he suffered through "awful" cold turkey and Thanksgiving dinner at a Waffle House in Georgia. It is not a stretch to believe Fujikawa will be successful. He has this way about him.

When he went fishing recently with a Sports Illustrated reporter and photographer, here to do a December story on one of the year's biggest newsmakers, Fujikawa was the only one to get a bite — and he got two.

"Sometimes I think it is God's gift to him," said grandmother Ellen Higuchi. "No matter what he tries to do he does it so well. Sometimes I'm amazed. Somebody up there is really watching over Tadd. ... I don't know what to say about this kid."

Down here, those watching over him most intently and lovingly are his parents and grandparents. They make Tadd's Excellent Adventure possible. Higuchi, and Danny and Dawn Fujikawa are there for their grandchild with the same devotion shown by their children — Tadd's parents Derrick and Lori.

Their retirement money is helping finance this unique journey into professional golf by a 5-foot-1 Moanalua Menehune absolutely convinced it is his path in life. Their unconditional love also paves the way, and has since those heartwrenching 3› months in the hospital that started his life.

Born three months premature and 1 pound, 15 ounces, Tadd was given a 50-50 chance of living. His parents and grandparents were at the hospital everyday, two or three times a day.

When he came back for more surgery at 6 months, he weighed just 10 pounds. "That was worse because you could sense Tadd kind of knew what was going on then," mom Lori recalled.

About a dozen of his nurses in Kapi'olani Medical Center for Women & Children's neo-natal intensive care unit are still there, and following Fujikawa's progress with more feeling than most. They say he still has the same eyes, and watch his exploits in wonder.

Many premature babies are blind or deaf and face mental challenges. But this little guy is taking on the big guys in golf, giving up many years and inches. At Sony in January, he beat most of them. He is their miracle.

"That," said Susan Kau, pointing to Fujikawa, "is why I'm in the field."

Those nurses, and Fujikawa's family, are why he is where he is this Thanksgiving Day.

"What I'm most thankful about this year is, first, having the opportunity to play on the PGA Tour," Fujikawa said. "To get out there, meet some of the players, play some tournaments, get sponsors' exemptions was really nice. Everything that has happened to me with golf this year has been very awesome. I've had so much fun doing it.

"But mostly, I think having the support of my family and having them help me through my golf career has been amazing. Those are the two things I'm most thankful for."

After eight professional starts, he has convinced his grandparents this was the right thing to do. They were more skeptical, and scared, than most. This Thanksgiving Danny Fujikawa, a judo instructor and one of the calmest guys on Earth, is most thankful for the way his grandson has "reduced my stress level" — after sending it into orbit with his phenomenal Sony week.

"Thinking back on the stress of Tadd going from amateur to professional, that feeling of not knowing whether we were doing the right thing or not, then getting past that and seeing him develop now — that's what I'm most thankful for," Danny said. "We saw Sony and got all excited about that. From there it all seemed to snowball. We were really worried about him. First, about getting a college scholarship and continuing on with school, and then realizing we couldn't afford to keep him playing golf at a high level for two years before college. We got past that and now I'm pretty happy we did. He's developing into a really good golfer now."

Danny recalls Tadd, so small at birth that nurses made his diapers out of surgical masks, whacking a puck around his father's store with a hockey stick at age 2. Danny, who plays to a 25-handicap — "I'm pretty bad" — created 18-inch clubs for Tadd and he started swinging at age 4. He never missed the ball.

That hand-eye coordination was not critical in judo, where Fujikawa won national titles as a small child, training at his grandfather's Salt Lake Judo Club. But in 2002, he told his grandfather he wanted to play golf.

"I think he started to realize the gap between his size and the kids his age, who were getting bigger and bigger," Danny said. "You look at guys in photos then and they were half a foot taller. In judo, if you are real short, I don't care how good you are, you are at a disadvantage. He can take care of himself in self-defense, but in competing he was at a big disadvantage. Maybe he realized that."

Tadd had no fear. His family worried about paying for his college back then, but Fujikawa took on golf with the idea of playing on the "big stage" — and winning. He brought judo's intensity and discipline, to say nothing of strong shoulders, hips and balance, to the golf course.

He began winning age-group events almost immediately, then open events. Last year he became the youngest ever to qualify for the U.S. Open. Then came Sony and the Fujikawas' lives changed forever.

They have not. Dawn Fujikawa still spoils her grandson rotten — "It's not a bad thing," Tadd grins — and Higuchi still amazes him.

She lost her right arm on Dec. 7, 1941, at age 11, when anti-aircraft artillery hit her family's house. "I was very young and in February I had to go back to school," Higuchi said. "That was terrible. I had to learn to write with my left hand. During those days they didn't have special classes. There was no psychiatrists or psychologists to help us. We had to take care of ourselves. I think that makes us stronger. It was OK, but it wasn't easy."

The government has never acknowledged her loss, but her family is in daily awe of what she has overcome. Tadd talks lovingly of her "spirit to never give up." He illustrates his point with stories of how she accomplishes simple acts of routine-ness that, when he thinks about it, seem nearly impossible: Putting toothpaste on her toothbrush and taking off her ring.

Higuchi never lets him forget she beat him at basketball when he was 5. Not that Tadd would. For all his joy, deep down he has always been a fighter and hates to lose. That is another reason his family supports this remarkable journey with such devotion.

Besides, while they may hate to brag, there is something special about their little guy. They saw it long ago. Now that others acknowledge it, they feel more comfortable talking about it.

"Tadd is always jolly and happy. He's considerate, really wants to make people happy," Danny Fujikawa said. "That's Tadd. He's always concerned about the other person. It had to do a lot with a good upbringing by his parents, I'm sure, but he himself is very sensitive to not hurting others' feelings."

When Tadd was young, a sumo wrestler turned away from him when he asked for an autograph. He has never forgotten that.

"Mainly I want him to be grounded and nice to everybody," Higuchi said. "That's the main thing about Tadd I like. ... This whole thing is so fun. No matter how much it is, I really enjoy it because everybody is so nice to him and just wishing he will make the cut."

And just wishing, particularly after the 2007 Michelle Wie has gone through, Fujikawa will succeed on his own terms. After this weekend, his next tournament will be the 10th anniversary of the Sony Open in Hawai'i, which begins Jan. 10.

By then, according to Bell, his agent, Fujikawa might have endorsement deals to take the financial pressure off the family. "It all starts with the idea that he is such a good guy and builds from there," Bell says of his negotiating strategy.

It starts with Tadd being Tadd. Simple as that.

Reach Ann Miller at amiller@honoluluadvertiser.com.