Remember the old Mid-Autumn Festival

Back then, we, the children aged 12 to 15, gathered in the cooperative yard to practice the Team ritual. The three frog drums were played by the boys. They didn't need to study anything, just watched the person in front play and then held the drumsticks, but the drum beats were always on beat, crisp, excited, without missing a beat. The remaining group, about thirty or forty children, lined up in two rows, vertical and horizontal, straight, following the whistle of the leader. The plastic whistle was tied with a string, hung around the neck, the leader puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, the whistle ball bounced crisply, making the sound "toet toet, toet toet, toet toet" following our very regular, rhythmic stomping of our feet and arms "one, twenty-one, twenty-one". It seemed that every child was trying their best to swing their arms and feet, concentrating, enthusiastically, and with all their might. If a child missed a beat, they would look at each other and correct themselves to get back in rhythm. We practiced all the Team rituals. From roll call, reporting numbers, turning right, turning left, turning back, stamping feet, walking in unison, stopping, lining up, forming shapes, dancing and singing... we all practiced them by heart. Everyone considered it a joy, an honor, and their duty.

The most exciting day was the camping competition, the ritual review competition, and the singing and dancing competition at the central warehouse yard of the commune a few days before the full moon night of August. My village had 3 teams, the teams in the village competed with each other, choosing the first, second, and third place teams. Then the first teams competed with each other to choose the champion team.

Going camping, we were delighted to see the bamboo poles wrapped in bright green, red, purple and yellow paper, the colorful camps; to eat rice with meat and beans that the leaders cooked at home and then carried pots, pans, bowls and chopsticks to the place; to dance with bamboo poles at night, to show off all the skills we had practiced for several weeks; to enjoy the lively, bustling festival atmosphere, full of sounds, lights and colors that the village children rarely got to see and enjoy. Those were truly wonderful spiritual foods for children in our time.

Mid-Autumn Festival night was equally exciting and joyful. Children from all over the village gathered in the spacious communal house yard, along with the village chief, the leaders, and many parents and people who came to watch the three dance and singing teams.

The most exciting and anticipated moment for the village children was when the elders in charge of giving out candy. We sat in rows, with different ages. There weren’t many Mid-Autumn gifts back then, each child only received a few sweet candies of bird eggs covered in powdered sugar, a few colorful candies wrapped in Hai Ha paper, and a few crispy processed cookies. Yet every child’s eyes sparkled, eager as if waiting to receive a magical, delicious gift for life.

From that day until now, more than thirty years have passed in the blink of an eye.

We, the 13, 14 year old kids back then, are now in our fifties. Yet in my heart, in my memory, the faces and figures of each person are still clearly visible. All of us are forever in our innocent, small childhoods. I suddenly realized something: people's memories are like cameras, once a picture is taken, it will never change. Therefore, although the years make people old in many ways, people's memories are always fresh and green, never old.

Sometimes when I sit down to search through my memories, I feel nostalgic and nostalgic for the past. I don't wish to go back, but I only wish that the scenes and people I once met, knew, and was attached to would always be safe.