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As a child I was one of the 125 people at our family gathering for New Year. These days we were a much smaller group in Belle Valley, Ohio. I insisted (坚持要求) on acting as hostess and wanted to bring back the joy I’d felt at my childhood New Year filled with love.
As family members arrived at the hall, I handed each one of them a numbered card and said, “Time for the alphabet game.” “What kind of game is that?” one of my great-grandchildren asked. “Well,” I said, “who’s got number one?” A cousin raised her hand. “Tell us something you never forget,” I said. “Something that begins with the letter A.” My cousin smiled. “Apple pie!” she said. Great-granddaughter Mindy was next. “B,” she said. “I am impressed by Buckeye Country.” “Cookies!” Number 3 shouted.
Until Number 17, “The next one’s a challenge,” I said. “Who’s got 17?” Ryan, my son, slowly raised his hand. “Q,” he said. “Quaker City Carnival (嘉年华).” The room went silent.
“It’s one of the oldest traditions in Ohio,” Ryan said. “Grandma and Grandpa met there. That’s where they fell in love. That’s where this whole thing started. This whole family.” Ryan looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. “We wouldn’t be here celebrating New Year together if it wasn’t for Quaker City Carnival.”
The room burst into laughter and was full of the love that had kept us connected to our Ohio traditions. “This is the best New Year we’ve ever had,” a great-grandson said to me secretly. Whatever their New Year would look like when they grew up, they’d remember this one. And for me, I had an unforgettable New Year to treasure — a memory where love started with the letter Q.

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