When the air begins to fill with familiar aromas, you know the Lunar New Year is near. It might be the cured meats hung to dry on a neighbor’s balcony, or the sweet, toasty smell of roasted nuts drifting from a street stall. Those scents act like a gentle key, unlocking a chest of memories—the warmth of staying up by the family hearth, laughter among the crackle of firecrackers, and the steaming bowl of dumplings on the first morning of the year.

At its heart, the Spring Festival is a holiday about coming home. It’s the reunion that crosses provinces and seas, the tired traveler’s “Mom, Dad, I’m back,” and the simple comfort of still being able to be a child in your parents’ care.

This past year has asked a lot of all of us. The busy days, the anxious ones, the moments of gain and the moments of loss—on New Year’s Eve they are folded gently into the glow of lanterns and family lights. The new year gives us a pause: a chance to breathe, to recharge our energy in the familiar tastes and voices that root us, and to set out again with steadier steps.

On Chinese New Year’s Eve, don’t forget to spend time with people who matter—watch the Spring Festival Gala, chat through the night, or make a long video call. Reunion takes many forms; when hearts are connected, that’s the best kind of New Year.

May the days ahead be as vivid and joyful as paper-cut window decorations, and as nourishing and reassuring as the New Year’s feast. May we all shed the weariness of the old year and, with childlike hope, go on to love, to try, and to create countless ordinary yet shining moments.