lt was two weeks before Chinese New Year, the spring festival that marks the end of winter. It is the principal holiday of the year, with celebrations that last seven days. Red Luck Posters were stuck to the door of each home. Meat was marinated and strong rice wine, ju, bought. Families arranged visits, and banquetswere prepared. In Beijing millions thronged the temple fairs to complete their holiday shopping.

The largest miaohui was in Ditan Park. There the noise was deafening. Drums thudded, cymbals clashed, and trumpets blared in the cold air. Stall holders called their wares, and customersshouted for children to keep up.

Swept along by the crowds, Mei walked beside her sister, whose mood had darkened. "Why must we come here every year?" Lu moaned. "All these people pushing each other -- and where's Mama?"

"She said she wanted to buy something." Mei stood on tiptoe to search but couldn't see her. Red lanterns swayed under the white stone arch of the sacrifice altar, where the emperor would offer sacrifices to earth at the summer solstice, and behind it, more crowds and stalls.

"Fireworks! Fireworks for Spring Festival!"

"Luck Posters to welcome the spring and banish ghosts!"

Dancers on stilts appeared at the end of the lane, accompaniedby trumpets and drums. The women wore red satin and waved vast pink fans. The men were in long blue robes and domed hats beneath which their faces were heavily made up with thickly lined eyes and rouge cheeks. Two children ran in front of them, causing some to wobble. At that moment Mei saw her mother pushing through the crowd with two bottle gourds.

"Hulu?" Lu frowned and uncrossed her arms to take the gourd.

"For luck -- and a grandson soon," said Ling Ba