By: Debbie Ann Tan

My senses are roused as if from sleep
Bang! Bum! Off went the firecrackers
Bitter smoke spreads around in the air
Through cracks and openings
Of our old house in Binondo.

I race to our rusty-railed balcony
"Here they come. Faster Papa..."
Papa ties one end of a long string
To the rusty rail and the other end
To the ang pao, the red money envelop.

The sounds of drums are louder now,
Oh, and more firecrackers, "Pack, Pang, Pung!"
The little fires zigzag along our narrow street,
Bells, lots of them chorused with the drums,
"Tung, Tang, Toog, Cling, Clack, Clang..."

The loud sounds hurt my ears, so I shield them
With my palms, hearing less but more my
Racing, rapid heartbeat and my head saying,
"They're here. The lucky dragon is here."
I open my chinky eyes wide as they would permit.

I bend over the rail to see the dragon's head
Bobbing up and down, and all around
It stops below our balcony and its head
Kisses the floor, its mouth opening and closing
It kowtows with back arched and head bowed.

It sees the ang pao hanging with a piece of lettuce
It wiggles its body and its head sways sideways
Then it opens its mouth wide and clamp on
The ang pao and in seconds, the string flies
To the air without the red money envelop.

I clap in glee as the dragon bows again
It pauses on the ground as if in prayer
Then it makes its final bow and
Moves on to the next house on our street.
This is the dawning of our happy New Year.