New Spring Sacred Fire

Tet in my memory is not only the red color of parallel sentences, the sound of firecrackers or the incense spreading from the family altar, but also the warm fire from the village temple. The fire warms the soul, carrying the breath of tradition and hope for the new year.

At the end of the year, the cold of the North seeps through every fold of clothing, permeates every room in the house, but does not diminish the bustling atmosphere of Tet preparations. My mother is busy with the New Year's Eve feast. My father carefully cleans the old oil lamp. My father tells me to prepare carefully, so that the New Year's fire will be brighter and more sacred.

Near New Year's Eve, the road leading to the village temple was as crowded as a festival. The light from oil lamps and flashlights flickered in the dark night, mixed with the people's laughter. The old men in turbans and traditional long dresses walked slowly. The whole village seemed to have made an appointment at the village temple, where the first fire of the new year would be lit.

In the communal house yard, a large fire was lit, the flickering light clearly illuminating each face. The elders in the ritual group, dressed in long dresses and turbans, solemnly performed the ceremony before the altar. The incense smoke billowed into the sacred space. The custodian attentively watched the clock, waiting for the New Year's Eve to beat each drum as if to awaken the earth and sky, signaling the moment of transition between the old year and the new year.

People approached the altar, clasped their hands in prayer before lining up neatly to ask for fire. Large oil lamps were placed solemnly on the altar, shining brightly. Each person lit bundles of fragrant incense. Each flame was passed from hand to hand, shimmering from the village temple to every house, bringing good luck for the new year.

My father carefully lit the incense stick from the big fire, holding it gently. He whispered: “This fire will dispel the bad things of the old year, bringing good things to the whole family in the new year.”

When arriving at the gate, Dad entered the house first. He held the oil lamp high, its light illuminating every corner of the familiar house, and he wished loudly: A healthy, peaceful, and prosperous New Year! When Dad placed the oil lamp on the altar, Mom lit the first incense stick from the sacred fire she had just brought home.

Now, as an adult and far from home, I still remember clearly those New Year’s Eves. The sound of drums echoing in the peaceful countryside. The flickering fire guiding the way in the dark night and the sincere New Year’s greetings from dear neighbors. That fire, though small, carried the warmth of ancestors, of the countryside and the strong belief that family is always the most peaceful place to return to.