清明時節雨紛紛 (Drizzling rain lingers during the time of Quingming)

Friday, April 5 was 清明Quingming Festival—the day when Chinese people visit their ancestral burial grounds. It falls on the first day of the fifth solar term (節氣) of Chinese lunar calendar on the 15th day after Spring Equinox. In most years, it falls on April 4 or 5 in Western calendar.

Chinese almanac explains the naming of this solar term: “Fifteen days after Spring Equinox, the handle of the Big Dipper points to the south. It is Quingming: when all things are clean, organized, pure and bright. During this period, air is pure (清) and scenery is bright (明), all lives appear, hence it was named.”[1] Clearly, it is the perfect time for spring outings, visiting nature and picnics. The festivities were depicted in some of the greatest Chinese paintings.[2]

At the same time, while people visit and clean ancestral tombs, melancholic sentiments are also felt during this period. The most vivid descriptions are found in Du Fu’s poem:

清明時節雨紛紛,路上行人欲斷魂。借問酒家何處有,牧童遙指杏花村。

Drizzling rain lingers during the time of Quingming,
Along the road, travelers feel as if their hearts would be broken.
Asking where there might be a tavern,
Shepherd boy points toward the village where apricot flowers are blooming.[3]

Last Friday, it rained all day. Several friends mentioned the coincidence of the weather matching the festival. I looked out of the window while traveling toward Newark. The marshland was misty and gray, slow to recover from long winter months. The dreary scenery reminded me that it had been thirty-six years since dad’s passing.

Dad passed on April 3, 1883 after long illness. Quietly, dad guided me in my formative years. He was one that encouraged me to trust my instincts and to follow my dreams. After all these years, I can still hear his voice directing me. His image never faded in my mind. Both my brother and I are often away from home during Quingming. When we are there at the same time, we try to visit dad’s grave—most often during summer months. This for many people are unorthodox. Yet, it is important for us.

I think that the true meaning of sweeping ancestral graves is to be reminded of traditions and to carry them on from generation to generation. And, the spirit of spring—regenerate and growth—is also important for all people.


[1] 《曆書》:「春分後十五日,斗指丁,為清明,時萬物皆潔齊而清明,蓋時當氣清景明,萬物皆顯,因此得名。」
[2]River Qingming;
Along the River During the Qingming Festival__Wiki
[3] 杜甫 Du Fu, Du Fu Wikipedia. I intend to reflect to the real meaning of the verses instead of formative structure.

Be a dignified Chinese person

This entry is part 3 of 4 in the series A Bigger Pond

Ms. 陳紀彝 Chen Chi-Yi was our beloved Principal at Wesley Girls’ High. A graduate of Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts, she held Masters of Education and Sociology from Columbia University. Before founding and leading the school, she devoted her time in women’s affairs and was a parliamentary member of R. O. C. A classmate and close friend of Madam Chiang Kai-Shek, she was a loyal supporter of Madam’s. But she never joined the Nationalist Party.

Originally from Canton, educated in English, speaking Mandarin didn’t come naturally to her. So, she rarely gave long speeches. Weekends before exams, she would send us home with encouragements. And, she would always say: “好好溫書, 不要’liaw’[撈?]冰箱.” We all found it funny. Although I never compared notes with my friends, I believed that she meant to say: “Study hard. Don’t keep going to the refrigerator searching for junk food.”

The other mantra of hers was: “作一個堂堂正正的中國人.” “Be a dignified Chinese person.” She said it with such sincerity and conviction that we knew she didn’t just use it as a slogan. And, she quietly set a perfect example for us.

Like many ladies of her generation, she wore traditional qípáo (旗袍 or cheongsam in Cantonese)[1] regularly. These long dresses were form fitting and rigid. However, they always seemed slightly loose on Principal Chen. Her upright posture made her small physique seemed imposing. I don’t remember ever seeing her laughing out loud. But there was often gentle smile on her face when we greeted her.

Never married, she treated us as her children. A few of our teachers were graduates of the first classes from the school. There was an apparent closeness between them and Principal Chen. By the time we were in school, there were too many of us for her to know everyone of us by name. But she paid close attention to our well-being. She ate dorm food with us daily. When time allowed, she would walk around the classrooms, observing us. Every time I spotted her passing by our classroom, I would sit a little straighter and try a little harder to focus on the lesson.

For many—including some of my relatives—Wesley was an “elite” school. I never quite knew what defined “an elite school.” Most of us were from middle class families. We all shared duties to keep our classrooms and bedrooms clean. Everyone, on rotation, is responsible to keep the common area in good shape. Twice a year, we had cleaning contests. All the screens and windows were removed and scrubbed. Every corner of the classrooms would be wiped spotless. Principal Chen would make sure that we did everything properly and that we worked safely.

I was in the Principal’s office a few times. (I don’t remember the exact reasons for being there. . .definitely, not for anything bad.) The set up was elegant but simple—exactly like the person at the desk. It seemed only yesterday that I bowed gently to greet her.[2]


[1]The Evolution of Quipao
[2]Principal Chen retired in 1975 and passed away on February 16, 1990.