Mooncake
January 23, 2026 | story by Tarryn Nichols
illustrations by Delia Rose Sauer
Hou Yi, the brave archer, shot down nine of ten suns
That scorched the great earth with fiery tongues.
But his wife, Chang’E, sacrificed herself for peace —
Confined to the moon, a goddess with no release.
Smiling mouths bite into sweet, dense pastry
filled with lotus or red bean, a symbol of harmony.
Every Mid-Autumn festival, the earth meets the sky
The lovers rejoice, as families gather in Shanghai.
Across the sea, fall is not met with red and gold festivities
And no cakes are topped with the character “longevity” (壽).
But every September, a green package arrived in the mail
From my Po Po and Da Da, “月餅 (yue bing) was on sale!”
The note in their package –– one of love and reunion,
Was strong as those who kindled the Mooncake Rebellion.
Chinese rebels took a factory to oust the Mongol dynasty
By slipping a note in each cake, the force was revolutionary.
Mooncake is very filling and meant to be shared
Among those you love, neatly sliced and prepared.
A sacrifice to the moon goddess, freedom from oppression
Baked in thick layers lies a tale of cultural expression.
To me, mooncake tastes like my grandma’s burly hugs
And 紅包 (hóngbāo) gifts before her savings went to cancer drugs.
Immigration is isolation when countries feel worlds apart,
But a mooncake can close the gap between hearts.
