A few weeks ago I returned to Malaysia to visit family, and - lo and behold! - discovered that my mom had planted three coconut trees in the front yard. The coconuts require lots of tender, loving care, demanding precise amounts of fertilizing for a few years before it can bear fruit, before we can enjoy cooling, sweet, fresh coconut!

Growing up in a Chinese evangelical-ish church, kneeling was taboo unless it was to God. At my grandma’s funeral, our family had even been excused from the traditional Buddhist prostrations before her casket. Yet here is my art history teacher, already getting on his knees before the painting of Mary inside Cavalletti Chapel.

When I was a kid, Advent was an exciting time. Mostly because it was leading up to the reason for the season: Santa Claus and presents. What? Don’t @ me. Now, as an adult, mostly I feel dread and annoyance. I hate presents. I hate shopping. I hate the cold. And apparently, I really hate joy and happiness.

I bought myself a pineapple in December.

Without thinking, plunked it in the basket.

It wasn’t on sale.

It wasn’t particularly colorful

or fragrant.

It was mostly unripe—

Bright green, like bamboo,

With a foreshadowing of yellow.

creation made co-heir,

questioning

how do I speak of glory

in this foreign land?