On a crisp autumn day in 2015, my five daughters and I escaped the ultramodern Suzhou for a visit to China's rural countryside. A short car ride from our home in the city, we arrived at the village of Shanglin, a small community nearly forgotten by China's fast-paced modernization. Today, China's ancient villages are populated mostly by the oldest members of Chinese society. The young have all moved away to seek their fortunes in the big cities. Many of the rural old, by choice or necessity, remain alone in their ancestral homes. These are people who were born during the brutal Japanese occupation of China. They were young during the Chinese civil war, and when Mao and the communists came to power. They lived through the Great Leap Forward and the Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution, two great upheavals that shook China to its core. They saw Deng Xiao Ping come to power and begin the opening and modernization of the country that reinvented communist China as one of the most advanced countries in the world. It is no exaggeration to say that few people in the history of humanity have witnessed so many world-shaping events or experienced such change as was witnessed and experienced by this generation of Chinese. They are the last guard of a way a life that will soon disappear from China completely. Our visit fell during Chrysanthemum Month (菊月; Jú Yuè), the ninth month of the Chinese lunar calendar. From year to year, the start of that month wanders around the Gregorian calendar, always falling in late September or October. On the ninth day of that ninth month, the Chinese honor their seniors with "Old People's Day". Not by plan, but by chance, we had arrived in Shanglin village on that day. We found the population of Shanglin gathered for a celebration in the village square. The faces in the crowd were old, tanned, wrinkled. There was such an accumulation of wisdom, experience, joy, sorrow, pride and pain, showing in every line and scar and smile. My daughters and I were mesmerized by the sight; when they invited us to join their celebration, we could not refuse. I took these pictures from a distance of about ten meters, keeping myself remote yet still able to capture every detail. Nevertheless, I had only 2 to 4 seconds to aim, focus and shoot before the person would turn away, or notice me and pose. As such the whole photo session took no more than ten minutes, which, in a strange way, makes my encounter that day that much more poignant and magical. Our experiences that day, and the people we met, changed us forever. We are eternally grateful that they invite us into their community, told us their stories, and let us share a brief moment of their long lives. The images in this book are my way of honoring them. I am thrilled to share these images with you and hope that it will encourage us all to appreciate, honor, and bless the elders in our lives.