#41 – Nôel the crowd
Every Sunday afternoon, when early dinner finished, Dad and Mom took me out for Chinese sweet soup
Every Sunday afternoon, when the first bell rang, formal neighbors in white Ao Dai and button-downs walked through the quiet space
So, I knew the church was a sacred place that cannot be violated
Until the first semester exam of each school year
The bell rang several times daily throughout the week
As a proud signal to show off a new look, like a freezing airflow from the far north pole rushes back to all year-round sunny equatorial land
The whole building got dressed up in green and red
Accessorized with plastic pine trees, paper stone cribs, and sparkling string lights
Accompanied by Mr. Nôel and his big mystery bag
The kids could only look in from outside the white fence, now covered with foam snow
Until December twenty-fourth evening
When street vendors displayed their wares on round trays two blocks away
Like a bridge
For the pagans
Step into the holy space behind the tall, thick gate
Those glittered paper pine tree-shaped crowns
Worth five hundred dong in the mid-90s
Yet everyone insisted on buying at least one
Put it on the youngest child
Confidently walked through the church access
Like a ticket certifying the pro-temp belongingness
Even no one asked
Pose, smile, click
“The tradition is done
We should yield the space for His children.”
Mom said.The way out was even more crowded
People in Ao Dai and button-downs from far away
Finally came
As the night progressed
As the line of people with glittered headbands faded
As the bell rang clearly and fast
As the blurry candlelight walking along the aisle straight into the hall gradually brightened
Six-year-old me knew that the ceremony had just begun
Nôel was the name of the crowd
Until I learned it was an extensive birthday celebration.
(narrates the memories of Christmas 1993)
Mickey
- Initial: December 18, 2023
