Maybe it was the styrofoam snowscape with the motorized ski lift ascending a slope outside a coffee house, or maybe it was the stars hanging from the ceiling of the chapel at Thao Dien that let me know that Christmas was here. 
The clues are more subtle than when the retail complex of a consumer society begins encouraging prospective purchasing to anticipate the gifting frenzy of Christmas morning. Which is not to say that the retailers here are lost in the backwash when it comes to seeking to monetize the commemoration of God's greatest gift to mankind. There are store displays and special sales, even if the phrase "Black Friday" has no resonance with anyone's psyche here. The minority Christian population in Vietnam, perhaps just under 10% has successfully crafted a place for their celebration of this event that does not emphasize the purchase of "stocking stuffers" (how many people really wear socks here anyway?)
Outside the Catholic Churches there are various visible evidences of a festival season- strings of stars leading to the one great star, usually brightly lighted high on the cathedral tower, and a grotto with near life-size figures of the key figures in the nativity nestled in rustic simplicity if not comfort, On Christmas eve, the churches will be thronged with believers participating in celebration of the mystery and majesty of "God with us."
In our own offices and the mission home, the remembrance of that mysterious night of light is marked by this somewhat fanciful and simple nativity, a locally made reminder of the many remarkable creches we love to see displayed at this time of year. 
The sounds at this season change a little bit as well. As I circled the park path early this past week, the aerobics group were drilling their beat to a different tune, "Jingle bells, five six seven, Jingle bells, and ten now!" Everyone was shaped to the season. Mobile music sellers, with stacks of CDs on their carts also featured seasonal takes on many western holiday favorites by various artists, whether modeling the style of Como or Spears. We're not sure the MoTab has any imitators here however, though the Hanoi Branch Choir may challenge that next Sunday. The Messiah performance we heard a few weeks back featured a conglomerate choir from several groups, and as MB has pointed out from the names on the program was remarkably cosmopolitan. 
Many seemed to sing as though they knew Him of whom those prophetic testaments witness, though I was disappointed the soloists seemed often more interested in drawing attention to their talent rather than his Gift. Style can defeat the intent at times.
When we welcomed guests from Hong Kong recently to the nearby hotel, the lobby did not quite feature "carols being sung by a choir" nor folks dressed like Eskimos, but this charming musician did her best to render something suited to the gingerbread decor and lighted tree nearby. 
(NOT plastic, though the texture not that different!)
The smells of star anise and cinnamon in beef broth that forms the basis for the best phở is not hard to find, but it doesn't quite have the primal memory links to sweet childhood Christmas baking scents that I grew up knowing. And the only balsam fir cachet one could find here would have to come from an aerosol found in a western market. But the sweet roses that graced the podium last weekend for our district conference, and the small sweet citrus "trai quet" (clementine-like) together with an occasional gardenia on the bushes outside have been enough.
I found some imported mejool dates in the market and decided to give them to one of our friends. In doing so I thought of how they were symbolic of the Savior who offers us through his redemptive power, the fruit of the Tree of Life. Though not white like the fruit Lehi saw, their sweetness reminds me of the savor in the fruits of repentance, which is sweet above all that is sweet. We see that reflected in the joyfulness of those who accept his message, drink fully of the sacramental covenants and themselves aquire a brightness of light and hope that is remarkable. We anticipate that the "whiteness" in our Christmas will be best expressed in the cleanliness of newly born lives, purified souls and joyful missionary messengers. These will indeed know the tidings of great joy that are to all people. 
Vietnam produces some quite delightful large yellow raisins. I chose these to give to another young friend, Z, who was celebrating his second Christmas as a member. These too seemed to have a likeness, perhaps more obvious as we consider Christ's words about being the True Vine. We as branches abiding in him can bear fruit also, laying up in store that we perish not. As I interviewed a family preparing to attend the temple and be sealed together as the youngest child enters the Manila MtC next month, I was moved by their story of travels in several nearby countries until they encountered and recognized the gospel almost 10 years ago. They will become more firmly engrafted into the True Vine as they make those covenants and hear the attendant promises. From there, the purifying and exalting vigor of the vine will further permeate thier family, spreading further along the branches to bless and unify. And too, the labors of their missionary son will repeat the process for others he will meet and teach over the coming two years. In being endowed with these blessings of the House of the Lord, they will be, like those golden raisins, preserved and protected, "laid up in store that they perish not" and bring salvation to their souls.
Another seasonal sign that is sweet to every ballet company across the world, is the much beloved story of Clara and her Christmas gift, the Nutcracker. The Hanoi Opera House provided a stellar performance to a large audience earlier this month. Seeing the ballet performed without a single child-dancer on stage was a new experience, but that didn't limit the child-like dreams of dancing flowers, sugar plums (although that is an incredibly hard term to translate!) and whirling Cossacks. I don't think P.I.Tchaikovsky had any Christ-evoking motif in mind with the composition, but if one has eyes to see (and perhaps an imagination to stretch) the Nutcracker does play into some possibilities- the Gift, the Vanquishing Savior, the Constant Comfort and Companion, etc. Perhaps it is fitting then that thousands of replicas are sold each season to young girls and boys who attend with their parents who may not think twice about any meaning beyond that of a memorable souvenir or toy. 
We will welcome the visit of Fantastic Felix and his doting parents later this week. We think they will share with us in this season of miracles more reasons to rejoice and be glad. There is magic ahead in watching him and seeing our own Christmas Child (Elizabeth his mother) and her husband KC remind us of the wonderful plan we are part of, the Plan of Happiness. 
