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The songs of the early nineties keeps ringing in my ears, it is the  joy and the melody that I continue to feel and hear, I can still feel the chills as the snowflakes drops on my window sill and  Santa  with his protruded guts playing pranks in the open dust.

 I was there but you were here running all over the town trying on different winter gown, and the warm sweater you wore at Christmas eve brought back deep nostalgia that touches my soul and I keep yearning for more.
 
 Those days the air was fresh and pollution was something of the past, I could breathe freely in a crowded train and ride with the natives in the town and sing songs of praises as we move around, and the windows of
Hope stands like mountain in front of me while, I gaze at the distance piecing together my destiny and the swollen clouds filled with the gift of life burst open and filters love from above.
 
The  Christmas memory of yesterday come to haunt me today, the sentiments were so deep, it keep waking me out of my sleep. Christmas in Beijing always made me sing, it was the best moment of my life, when I felt relax and enjoyed everything that was within, I was bursting with happiness that keep feasting on my flesh.

It started with my Brazilian class mate that lives inside the embassy gates, she had this long golden bushy hair and deep eyes that had no fear, her English was fine but she spoke with a Portuguese accent. She was a beauty and had a kind heart but her life was loaded with alcohol misery, and I could sense the pain that was driving her insane and rough texture in her voice explained it all.

The language was difficult for her to learn but she had to master the life of a diplomat and behave like the ambassadors daughter. I spend Christmas Eve 92 at the Brazilian diplomatic compound in Beijing, making food from sunrise to sundown, to cater for the many guests that was coming to town.

We made dishes of every kind and use the living fruits to create edible master piece about our history, it was like carving reality on water melon and using pineapple and ripe banana to explain how they cross over. And when night came and the guest starts pouring we were still working in the kitchen,  I learn to make some Brazilian foods and cherish the culture of the Brazilian youth.

The windows of hope keep shining in my soul and I will always remember Christmas in Beijing when I grow old, the windows of hope touches my soul the window of hope has made me whole.
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