What Were You Doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?

"When the lights turned down, they don't know what they heard
Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world
We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky
'Cause we got the fire, fire, fire, yeah we got the fire fire fire

And we're gonna let it burn"
 - Burn, by Ellie Goulding

I've had some interesting New Year's Eve celebrations. I've never been kissed at midnight, except for on the cheek, yet it's nice to have something iconic to look forward to. Most have been spent with my family, gathered around a bonfire in the backyard, roasting hot dogs and talking about the past year before watching movies until midnight. Sometimes we break out sparklers or fireworks. Those New Year's Eves will always be sweetly remembered and cherished.

One year, I traveled to Peru on a short-term mission trip. The team and I arrived in the airport minutes before midnight. We all cheered and hugged, and as we drove to our hostel, we passed by crowds of people who were celebrating with music, fireworks, and small fires on the streets. It was rowdy and different and fun, just like this year's Eve in Ecuador with all the youth I work with. We celebrated in the street by burning an old man figure which symbolizes the end of the old year. There were fires lit up and down the streets, everyone jumping over the flames and setting off fireworks, laughing and hugging and happy. I loved the energy of it.

In contrast, there were two years when I was alone at midnight. That may sound sad but it was actually wonderful in a different kind of way. One year, I went out to dinner and a movie with a girl friend. We parted ways just before midnight. I needed to do something memorable, so I drove to my favorite park and walked alongside the river. It was cold, my gloved hands sunk deep in my pockets and my breath appearing as small white clouds. In the park is a large white gazebo. It reminds me of the one from "The Sound Of Music". I ran to it. In the middle of the gazebo, in the middle of an empty park, with the echos of fireworks coming from a distance and every now and then lighting up the sky above the treetops, I curtsied, held out my arms, and began to dance. A waltz, of course, my favorite and the only dance I can decently do. I sang "Once Upon A Dream" and waltzed. That was how I welcomed in the new year. I laughed at myself and walked back alongside the river, back to my car. I drove home content.

Another year I was at a friend's house for a party. We played games and ate snacks yet after the ball dropped in Times Square everyone started winding down, and in fact left at 11:30. I was disappointed, but I decided again to find a place to greet the new year in peaceful solitude. I drove to a local university and parked outside the chapel. There's a small courtyard to the side of the ancient chapel, and I stood underneath the stained glass windows, beautifully lit from inside. As I counted down the seconds to midnight, I chose that time to sing "Come Thou Fount" at the start of the new year. Once again I drove home contented to have been with friends and also to be able to have a moment of peaceful wonder.

The year before last, my family and I did something I have long dreamed of: we set off paper lanterns. They were large and light, all in different colors. On new year's eve we walked into the cold night air and lit them one by one. Not everyone in my family could be there. I had pictured it slightly differently in my mind: my sister who is a photographer would have captured each person individually holding and releasing their lantern. My dad would have been there instead of working. Two lanterns wouldn't have caught in the trees, making my mom and one sister nervous. Yet even so, it was lovely. We helped each other hold and light each lantern. Slowly they filled with heat and lifted ever so gently from our hands. I found that I adored the moment of watching them rise, perfectly silent, into the dark sky. Higher they rose and farther they drifted, like new-born stars venturing bravely into the night.

We watched till they were nearly out of sight, before turning all together to go back into the warm house. The song above was playing in my head. It was a new year's to remember, a memory to frame and keep and wear soft with love.