The Season

A few days ago, while walking outdoors deep into the night, I realized how chilly the night air had become. Gazing around me, I saw houses and buildings bedecked with the trimmings of Christmas. I should have known Christmas was just around the corner, me, who had been ready with lists and presents since October. However, I cannot help but feel a little wistful. It is after all my 28th Christmas now (my first when I was just 8 months old). After all the years, all my Christmas memories have become so entangled that it is almost impossible for me to say which year was which.

One Christmas in particular stands out...

It was 2002. My first white Christmas, in a not so white country. I was in Beijing, China, attending the Fall-Winter semester at BLCU, and it was my first Christmas away from my family. Deep down, I thought how fun it would be, being away from home and my family. But it proved to be difficult, in a country where Christmas is celebrated by a handful (most of whom were foreigners such as us). In China, Christmas is an ordinary day, in which you are required to come to class, or attend work just like an ordinary day. I, however, rebelled at the thought of not celebrating Christmas. So, instead of a Christmas tree, I got myself a wreath to hang on my door and found myself shopping for Christmas gifts from IKEA and the flea market. After class on Christmas Eve, a bunch of us went to the Canadian Embassy for Christmas service, after which we herded ourselves to a forgettable (but expensive) restaurant that served watery risotto for dinner. It was a cold and snowy night. I remember holding on to a friend while walking to keep warm and avoid slipping on frozen ice. Back at the apartment, me and my roomies sang Christmas carols, greeted each other a merry christmas, and went to bed. The next day, we woke up late and deliberately skipped class. I had lunch with my cousin, my only relative in China, at least to feel the semblance of being home, and went to the mall thereafter with my friends...

Looking back, I can say that it wasn't the best Christmas I've ever had, but probably the most memorable. It taught me a valuable lesson which I try to remember every year. Christmas is not just about the trimmings, the presents and the more frequent dinners and get togethers, Christmas is about love and communion, hope and acceptance, but moreso, something each of us carries anywhere we go. One thing I was most thankful for, was that in the very country where Christianity is forbidden, that Christmas was when I truly found myself seeking for God, and finding Him. It is ironic to find God amidst a populace that does not believe He exists. Nonetheless, that is what exactly happened, and I am eternally grateful, and humbled by that memory.