let is snow!

Christmas, where I come from, is a peculiar festive season. Dad’s a Buddhist and Mom’s a Taoist and I’m neither. So, christmas has got nothing whatsoever to do with religion. There was no christmas tree to decorate, no Santa to bestow us with gifts and, above all, it doesn’t snow in the tropics. Yet, there’s always something different in the air during christmas.

When I was 11, Dad came home one evening in December carrying a huge, long box tied with pink raffia strings that reminded me of a coffin. All four children became curious and gathered close around him, holding our breath as he untied the strings to reveal what lie underneath its cover. Silence was soon broken by squeals of delight and excitement for we could finally have a christmas tree to decorate to usher in the festive season. Then, Mom appeared with two large shopping bags filled with baubles, glittering streamers and fairy lights to a second wave of squealing... and I dare say I could hear Dad laughing which was rare being the strict disciplinarian that he was. 

The next day I had the crazy idea that if we could have a Christmas tree, why not have snow as well? Without a second thought, I started making snowballs out of cotton and string and hung them from the ceiling of the living room, much to the chagrin of my parents. There must have been hundreds of them for it took me almost a week to do so. But it was worth the effort. Anyone – neighbours, relatives and friends – who came to our home that year would stare and smile at the sight of hundreds of fake snowballs suspended in mid-air swaying to the breeze and, beneath the sea of puffy white cotton balls stood a fake christmas tree, tall, proud and all decked out in multi-coloured blinking lights.

And, so, it did snow in the tropics in December 1980 – in a tiny apartment on the eleventh floor.

bringing the scent of winter right into your home