I pulled the camera from the pocket of my winter coat and took a picture of the two boys in the seat of the bus behind me, as they threw themselves into a pose. Then I tucked the camera away. It was the first time my mom had let me take it and I was eager to capture every element of our class trip. We were going to the sugar bush, to see how maple syrup was made. I photographed each scene, the two boys from the seat behind included – first pretending they were tapping the trees, later boiling the syrup. At the end of the tour we all bought maple sugar candy in the shape of a maple leaf and I took one last photo as the boys each thrust one foot onto a snow-covered log. They flexed their stick-thin arms beneath thick winter coats.

I couldn’t imagine one day my own daughter, about the age I was at that time, would be asking for stories of my childhood, a time and place that now seem so distant. 

At Christmastime, more than any other time, I realize how different my life is – China is a world away from the small Canadian town, surrounded by forests of maple trees, that I grew up in. As a child, I enjoyed a simplicity of life, yet was eager to explore. I longed to see more, but couldn’t imagine where that longing would take me. 

It wasn’t just new places I enjoyed, but also special times, especially in December: singing carols each morning in our school auditorium, exploring the town square with it’s nativity scenes, and seeing the whole town lit up. Christmas was filled with awe. Now I work to inspire wonder in my own children, and often feel that, living in China, I’m at a disadvantage. I can’t recreate for them, what meant so much to me. No lights on neighbouring homes, no sugar bushes to explore, and no snow. 

While we’ve made many memories, I always feel something is missing.

This year was different.

In November my brother and sister-in-law visited and brought Christmas along – their suitcases were as full as Santa’s sac. Instead of piles of snow, we had piles of treats and while we dug right in, I tucked a few things away. 

Once December 25th arrived, we celebrated in the way that has become normal – far from family, far from snow. We made our favourite meal – pancakes, bacon, and eggs. And I pulled out a gift I had tucked away. As I did, I remembered the generosity of friends and family who sent gifts from afar. 

While it was warm enough for us to wear t-shirts and the neighbourhood kids were all at school, the snowy scene on the tin and the rich taste of the maple syrup I poured from it, brought the magic of past  Christmases into my China home.