Lunar New Year is just around the corner. Everyone has their expectations and unique memories of this important Chinese festival. Reflecting on this festive time brings back a tapestry of childhood memories, each woven with the vibrant threads of tradition and joy.

In an era of scarcity decades back, the Lunar New Year was a time of abundance. It meant delicious food, new clothes, and Hong Baos (red envelopes with money). Reunion dinner with a lavish spread of Pingtan's specialties such as Fa Gao (Steamed Prosperity Cake), Everlasting Love (Fried Sweet Potato Dumplings), Pingtan Seafood Pizza, pan-fried oysters, and various seafood is a total bliss for children, like mice falling into a rice bin- happily indulging in the feast that would last for days. Amid the jubilant ambiance that filled every home, the children of Pingtan would embrace the passing of another year, a year closer to adulthood.

Back then, we would join our parents in pasting spring couplets and staying up late to watch the New Year's Eve Gala. With a black and white television set projecting flickering image, my siblings and I would stare wide-eyed, searching for the lively figures jumping on the screen. Even in the late hours, we were reluctant to sleep, determined to stay up and welcome the dawn with fireworks. To economize on electricity, our parents eventually turned off the power, leaving us with only a faintly lit candle. My brother and sister eventually fell into a deep sleep, but I managed to stay awake until sunrise. This habit of staying up on New Year's Eve has continued for many years, and now, with children of my own, I follow the tradition of watching the entire New Year's Eve Gala and then staying up with lights on.

As I grew older, one of the highlights was setting off firecrackers after the family reunion dinner and on the first morning of the Lunar New Year. The adults were especially cautious about us getting hurt, so we could only watch from a distance. However, we were eager to try and would pick up the dud firecrackers scattered on the ground. As we grew a bit older, my siblings and I would sneak a string of firecrackers, tear open the fuse, and dismantle them into small firecrackers. Holding these small firecrackers, we'd light them with an incense stick and throw them everywhere, inserting them into cracks in the walls, in chicken droppings, in water puddles, and in manure pits. This mischief brought laughter and screams but also earned us a few scoldings and shed tears.

I remember a delightful tradition in my hometown of Kuaihai Village on Pingtan Island during the New Year. People would mob to the homes of newlyweds to catch a glimpse of the bride, "sweet talk" for a couple of Hong Baos, and ask for dried longan fruits for luck. As a shy kid, I would hide among the other children and carefully approach only after everyone else had received their share. In an era of limited resources, the dried longans were quickly grabbed by the mischievous kids, leaving me only to envy my playmates. Sometimes, encountering a friendly family, they would grab my hand and insist on giving me a few candies, and I would happily return home with a heart full of joy.

Chinese New Year is like a carefully planned blockbuster playing out throughout the year, with each person as the protagonist. It is a time for familial dialogue, where everyone is both a storyteller and a listener. Chinese New Year is also an accelerator, injecting energy and hope into each person for the coming year.

                                                                                                                           [Authored by Lan Yihao (Pen name)]