“Gratitude turns what we have into enough.” Melody Beattie

Winter in China is like a popcorn string of holidays. The cool of October brings Canadian Thanksgiving and in November, along with American friends, we give thanks again ushering in a season filled with turkey, stuffing, apple pie, and classic movies that leads us to our New Year. But the celebrations don’t end there – this is when preparation for Chinese New Year begins.

I’ve written about Chinese New Year from my perspective but this year I wanted an insider’s view so I asked a Chinese friend. As a child she, like me, anticipated celebrating with a countdown. My countdown to Christmas started on December first when I opened a tiny flap on a nativity scene and enjoyed the candy hidden behind, locating the one for the next day, and the next, and willing time to fly. Hers began the day her grandmother made a large batch of porridge – not regular rice porridge but a colourful mixture of eight grains.

She ate and listened to stories of China’s past.

After harvest, peasant farmers filled crocs three feel tall and covered them with lids made of dried grasses – one for rice, one for millet, another for corn, or perhaps red bean or black rice. These wiry farmers worked the fields fuelled by rice porridge, millet porridge, and corn porridge but when they reached the last month of the year reserves were low. They scraped the bottom of each croc and, cooking the colourful mixture, discovered Eight Treasures Porridge.

My friend, as a young girl, ate this same porridge. Hearing of hunger and survival she was taught to give thanks for a full life. As she recounted this I was reminded of my desire to live in a constant state of gratitude. I was aware of how far I fall short.

So this year when La Yue Chu Ba, the eighth day of the last month in the Chinese calendar arrived, I imagined kids all over China starting their countdown to Chinese New Year: a night that will be filled with firecrackers, dumplings, and red envelopes stuffed with money. I joined millions of Chinese mothers and grandmothers and made my kids their favourite Chinese porridge. Instead of drinking it with a straw popped through the top of a disposable cup sold by street vendors, as they have many times, they ate at our table. You would be surprised how much they enjoyed this simple meal that cost a dollar. As they heaped on brown sugar I started yet another holiday season with thanks.

I’m thankful for time spent with my kids, I thought as I watched them eat. I’m thankful to learn about this holiday, to hear about life from a perspective so different from my own. 

We finished eating and I moved to my chair by the window where sunshine warmed me on a winter day. I looked down at my dog bathing in a pocket of sun that shone on my floor and I smiled in thanks. He noticed me and approached. He put his front paws on my chair and leaped onto the lap my children have outgrown. He nestled his head into the crook of my arm and let his weight rest on me. My fingers sunk into his fur. We sat in contentment and in that moment, on my third in a series of thanksgiving holidays, I knew it was true – gratitude enriches life.