Christmas in China

Christmas in China is one of the most precious things in the world to me.

Christmas in China is a longing for home, a longing to be with my family, a longing for belonging. Christmas in China is choosing joy, and beauty in the way I never imagined before.

Christmas in China is tiny felt tree my first year, because someone gave it to me in a box of chocolate!  It’s two tiny ornaments I bought in Thailand for my tiny daughters, when I was there to give birth to Esther.

Christmas in China this sounds, sensations, taste that make me feel safe. Christmas in China is a feeling of being outside looking in.  It’s wondering why all my local friends keep giving us apples, until someone finally explains to me the deal.

Christmas in China is the few thousand foreigners who live in that city coming together under one roof for an international Christmas fair. It’s the Nigerians, the Samoans, hill tribe people, the Argentinians, the Colombians, the New Zealanders, all pressed into a small hall.

Christmas in China is finding some of my most precious household items for sale at the Christmas market. A Chinese nativity set, made by some people in a remote village. A tree skirt, made out of felt, handsewn by a group of women. Essential oil’s hand carried from New Zealand by a family who is so excited to share. Real German cookies, made by a real German lady.

It’s my beautiful children, dancing to Christmas ballet, to the song that still makes me cry every time. Their little ballerina friends so many shapes and colors, representing a love that moved their families from the many corners of the earth to be in this place.

Christmas in China is getting on my scooter, and driving downtown, an hour away to the post office, only to be told that the package I had hoped for is not there. But I know it’s there because the tracking said it was delivered. Christmas in China has me screaming at the workers, crying at the workers, begging them to let me in the back to find the package myself.

Christmas in China is sometimes they let me, and sometimes they don’t. Then I have to return to days later to try the process over again. Christmas in China is thinking a package from “home” will make everything OK, so I obsess about it until I almost can’t think about anything else. Christmas in China is the package helping, the package making us happy, but it actually didn’t make it OK. It just helped ease the pain.

Christmas in China is waking up with my kids, my husband, and knowing the day is perfect. It’s my favorite friends coming over for lunch and drinking wine from the import store. It’s us holding each other while we look at the crackling fire on the TV screen, and say to each other and this was the most perfect Christmas ever. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Christmas in China is so painful in one moment I want to scream, and so full of love and acceptance and joy the next, I would choose to be here forever.

Christmas in China makes me feel different from my friends, who have never been away from their family on the holidays.

Christmas in China is bringing pecans all the way from my vacation in Thailand last year, and saving them so I can make Russian tea cakes. It’s a box I keep in the back of my cupboard, full of sprinkles,  and candy canes I brought from America. It’s holding onto some of my favorite old traditions, and getting excited about making new ones. It’s a tree covered with ornaments from all over the world.

I hold the China Christmas years forever, with love and hope in my heart.