On the beginning of the new year, I find myself in the cargo hold of a dirty old piece of space junk. I am surrounded by those who would once have caused me to cross a street, people I would never before have shared two words with. A thief, a mercenary, a smuggler, a "companion" and two fugitives are now the friends I share celebrations with. All of them are running from something, all of them scofflaws who make sport of eluding authorities, who pride themselves on gunplay.

Surely these cannot be my compatriots. Surely this is not the group I am to spend my sabbatical with. Men who view the Bible as no more than badly-written literature. No, this is a mistake. Oh, would that the others at the abbey could see me now.

I raise my glass, tapping my spoon against the wooden edge to lower the commotion in the cargo hold of Serenity. "If I may...?"

"You wanna speak, Shepherd," Malcolm Reynolds said, "just start a-talkin'. You'll find ears. I got two good ones you can use. Well... one good one. The other'n is kind of spackle-glued on..."

Inara laughed, covering her mouth at the outburst. Perhaps she'd had a bit too much to drink. Or perhaps the flush in her cheeks was from where the Captain's hand happened to be resting?

I smiled down at them and said, "Thank you, Captain. I simply wish to say... shall this coming year bring surprises, no more than we can handle. Obstacles, no more than we can overcome..."

"And womenfolk, no more than we can lay two-at-a-time!" Jayne helpfully interjected.

"The man is a poet!" Wash said, hoisting his glass. He quickly lowered his glass at the withering look from his wife. "Barbarian. Barbarian, I said, and I'll say it again, the... ruffian. With his lack of respect for the womenfolk and... You were saying, Shepherd?"

I smiled. "Perhaps it would be best said in true poetic form." I searched for the right words and then spoke: "Ming nian qi tian nian. Xin shi kong cuo tuo. Nu li jin jin xi. Shao nian you ke kua."

"Exuberance of youth," Jayne repeated in English.