Steve Earle wrote this song called _Nothing But a Child _and when I first heard it back in 1989 it struck me as the truest words about Christmas I've ever heard. It goes like this:

Once upon a time in a far off land
Wise men saw a sign and set out across the sand
Songs of praise to sing, they traveled day and night
Precious gifts to bring, guided by the light
They chased a brand new star, ever towards the west
Across the mountains far, but when it came to rest
They scarce believed their eyes, they'd come so many miles
And the miracle they prized was nothing but a child Nothing but a child could wash these tears away
Or guide a weary world into the light of day
And nothing but a child could help erase these miles
So once again we all can be children for awhile Now all around the world, in every little town
Everyday is heard a precious little sound
And every mother kind and every father proud
Looks down in awe to find another chance allowed

For me, today, these words still hold true and parts of the song that were abstract to me in '89 are now concrete.

When I first moved to Beijing I didn't have a job nor was I looking for one. I would go to Starbucks every morning and drink my Grande coffee and read whatever book I was reading (initially, this was The Da Vinci Code which is to books what bush is to presidencies). I would get to Starbucks at 7am and on most mornings the place was deserted. Every couple of weeks, however, 10-15 westerners of mixed age would come in and have some type of support group meeting. On these mornings it was impossible for me not to overhear what they were talking about. Topics ranged from: "How to be a good Christian" or "Why are we here?" to "Teaching your children the proper values". Now for those who know me, and I must admit there are few, know that I lack a certain, shall we say, fondness for this type of talk. And indeed, on some mornings, I physically moved myself to the recesses of Starbucks rather than overhear their conversations.

But then days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and dollars into RMB, and RMB into needs, and peace into restlessness. Essentially I was bored and broke...ok not super broke but negative cash flow does not make one feel real good. At least this one. So I actually considered joining the support group. Of course I searched for them online first instead of just asking. I figured I could put up with the religious philosophical talk if it meant I could make some friends, make some connections.

And indeed a miracle happened! I got a job. And it wasn't as an English instructor.

So, what does this story have to do with anything? Nothing really, I guess, but it is Christmas time here in Beijing. This will be our third Christmas living here but actually only our second one in Beijing as we spent that first Christmas in the states. Anyway, Christmas is both big and small here. It isn't a national holiday and most people except foreigners don't take the day off work. However, all around town are Christmas trees, lights, and Santas. Restaurants and cafe's play Christmas songs -- often the same one over and over again.

On Thursday of this week I took Aidan and Lydia to school. I got to Aidan's classroom and handed him over to his teacher. They have rules about parents not entering the classroom proper so I stared through the doorway as Aidan seated himself. Aidan picked up a small wooden chair and started walking towards the small tables where his classmates were already sitting. Aidan first started towards the table with mostly boys but seemed to think better of it and veered towards the girls table but something stopped him and he ended up going to the far side of the boys table. I watch him and I know I am watching me at his age -- heck at my age. Not sure were to sit, where to be accepted. Aidan has been struggling a bit these days with his anger and sensitivity to things. It seems some of the bigger boys are picking on him at school and truth be told he is quite short for his age. And I remember when I was in Kindergarten and how I used to dread the recess period as the boys would pick on me and I would have to go play with the girls who didn't want me around.

Anyway, after dropping Aidan and Lydia off, I walk down the street to Starbucks and get my coffee and read me work email before hailing a cab. At the Starbucks are a group of 10-15 westerners talking about the meaning of life.

And I think of the Steve Earle song.