Night Mosaic

Taxi's hurry by the main entrance to our apartment. Many nights, Debbie and I stand on our living room balcony on the 7th floor and look at the street below and the main gate - which is never closed.

From my office window in our spare bedroom on Hongqiao Road, the view at night overlooks postage stamp windows of light, each representing a family, a story, a life. I even speculated about one for a writing contest I entered - the results of which I haven't heard.




We are moving today to a townhouse down the street and which is on the first two floors. It sits about a half mile back from the Hongqiao Road. No taxi horns to hear. No construction sounds. A guard stops every pedestrian, every vehicle from entering without getting his approval. A much more quiet, gentler place reminding me of something that might be found in the deep south of the United States.

Why move? More room for entertaining new friends, and far less dust. The dust from the construction sites around our apartment coated everything, causing us to have to clean constantly just to keep up with it. My laptop keys often felt gritty, which is bad thing in the world of computers.

The townhouse will have little of that. Lovely trees planted in every yard, side-by-side, form an umbrella over our new place. My office will be on the second floor overlooking . . . leaves.

Bigger, cleaner, nicer, and certainly more quiet but, I hope, not boring.

I must admit that I'm going to miss the view from the busy street called, Hongqiao Lu. But to be in the middle of life, you have to be willing to put up with the dirt that comes with it. That's the "life lesson" I'm getting from this move. Touching people with the love of Jesus means putting up with the dust, noise and progress of the construction that is taking place. Initially, it may not be pleasant. But the end result will be beautiful and worth it.

Symbols

The Ching Ming Festival (Pure Brightness Festival) or "Tomb Sweeping Day" is a national holiday in China which brings families to the graves of departed loved ones to clean the grave sites and honor their memory.

































































Families leave symbols of those things that the dead enjoyed when they were alive and by which they are remembered. For instance, if someone liked tea, the relatives would drink tea at the grave, smoke a cigarette, etc. If the dead were remembered for how hard they worked to make money, then fake money is purchased and burned so that the dead can have funds in the next life.

It begs the questions: "By what will I be remembered?"

Within a few days of Tomb Sweeping Day begins several Blossom Festivals which mark the growth of crops of flowers such as the beautiful pink Peach tree blossoms and the bright yellow Rapeseed plants from which are harvested beans which make a vegetable oil for cooking and the plant itself is used for livestock food. Canadian farmers created a low acid variety called, "Canola Oil." Debbie and I traveled with some friends to two major blossom festivals in the countryside. We also stopped by the boyhood home of one of our new Chinese friends, and the bright yellow Rapeseed plants can be seen growing not only in fields but along one of the ancient canals directly beside his home.

The fact that following the day of remembering the dead are festivals to celebrate the blossoms of spring is not lost on my soul.

Easter Sunday marks a day of remembering the life and death of Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the Living God. By what symbols is He remembered? The cross - for his death; and the empty grave - for His resurrection. These symbols were not for Him, but for us. His death was for the price of our sins and the empty tomb, the victory offered to anyone who would surrender to Him as Lord of their lives.