On seeing it in the dark, my Vietnamese grandmother was convinced it was Buddha himself – and that she had died and passed into the afterlife
When my cousins and I were young, we built a makeshift Christmas tree in our grandma’s basement garage. Christmas was a relatively new celebration for our family: my parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles had arrived in Australia as refugees from Vietnam in the late 1970s and, as Buddhists, didn’t celebrate Christmas – until young children came along.
So, our tree was fashioned out of cardboard tubes – the kind that hold bolts of fabric, since our family was in the textiles business. The base was a plastic bucket; the body was three of those slender cardboard cylinders, tipi-ed together and tied at the top. We draped it in tinsel and crowned it with a star. It was a thing of beauty, one-and-a-half metres high with a slightly musty aroma.
Continue reading… On seeing it in the dark, my Vietnamese grandmother was convinced it was Buddha himself – and that she had died and passed into the afterlifeWhen my cousins and I were young, we built a makeshift Christmas tree in our grandma’s basement garage. Christmas was a relatively new celebration for our family: my parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles had arrived in Australia as refugees from Vietnam in the late 1970s and, as Buddhists, didn’t celebrate Christmas – until young children came along.So, our tree was fashioned out of cardboard tubes – the kind that hold bolts of fabric, since our family was in the textiles business. The base was a plastic bucket; the body was three of those slender cardboard cylinders, tipi-ed together and tied at the top. We draped it in tinsel and crowned it with a star. It was a thing of beauty, one-and-a-half metres high with a slightly musty aroma. Continue reading… Christmas, Life and style, Family, Australia news, Refugees, Buddhism
