I don’t notice much about the full moon anymore. Does it still shine as bright? Does its ringing white light still seem surreal in the lonely, dark blue sky? Do the whispers of a rabbit, making the elixir of immortality on the moon, still reverberate as the graceful shadow of a woman flies by — perhaps to meet with her lover? I still wonder about it all, but everything has changed. I have forgotten that special taste of mooncakes and that mystery of the story of “Chang’e Flying to the Moon.” I can’t exactly recall those moments during the Mid-Autumn Festival when everyone was there, sitting at a table full of my favorite foods, vibrantly laughing and talking.

When I can’t remember, I go back to a time when little me was holding my first mooncake, thinking I was having a second birthday. The flowery mooncake was filled with salted egg yolk and red bean paste. It was so pretty I didn’t dare eat it, and I thought I’d never see a more beautiful birthday cake. As my twin sister and I sat around the table full of different mooncakes, gazing up at the big, round moon, our mom told us for the first time, “宝贝儿，这是中 秋节。过这个节日的时候，我们吃月饼，我们赏 月，我们团圆” (Baby, this is the Mid-Autumn Festival. During this holiday, we eat mooncakes, we admire the moon, and we reunite).

A 3,000 year-old tradition, with an ancient and misty origin, the Mid-Autumn Festival is one of the most important holidays to people of Chinese descent. Eating mooncakes and gazing up at the full moon is our way of praying for a good harvest. Romantically speaking, it is also a celebration of the reunion of the archer Hou Yi and his wife, the moon goddess Chang’e.

The legend tells that after being awarded with the elixir of immortality for saving the citizens by shooting down nine of the ten suns, Hou Yi gives the precious liquid to his wife Chang’e for safekeeping. Yet one day, Chang’e accidentally swallows the elixir of immortality as she tries to protect it from a thief. The power of the elixir causes her mortal body to become so light that she floats up to the moon and becomes the moon goddess. She is thus separated from Hou Yi — immortal, but solitary. Heartbroken by Chang’e’s departure, Hou Yi lays her favorite fruits and cakes as offerings, hoping to show how deeply he misses her. Touched by their true love, the Mother of the Moon grants them a yearly reunion on the full moon of the eighth lunar month.

This celebration is not only a time to honor a longstanding story, but also an opportunity to make amends and to create new memories. I used to question why times like this mattered and why it is important to value family. Now I understand: one day, when you want to remember something precious but discover that you have forgotten it, you will search desperately through the dark corners of your mind. Maybe distance or time caused the forgetfulness. In the end, you will simply wish you’d appreciated the good moments more.

I often wonder why we choose to approach such a reflective holiday so lavishly and sincerely, as when we eat a specific cake and choose to be with family. It is because in the end, we all remember the love shown to us through the things people did for us, the lengths they went to — not for their wrongs or mistakes — just like how Hou Yi will always be there for Chang’e during the Mid-Autumn Festival.