Eleanor Wu, 74, who hosted the first Yuletide Mahjong night, welcomed players into her home adorned with lanterns, garland, and the glow of holiday lights.
The sound of clinking tiles and laughter spills from a cozy living room in Arlington, where a multi-generational group gathers to play Mahjong, a centuries-old Chinese tile game that’s found new life in suburban Virginia.
The group, now 20 strong and ranging in age from 28 to 82, meets in the home of a different member each week. What started as a small circle of retirees has grown steadily over the past several years, evolving into a vibrant community of players who span generations, backgrounds and skill levels.
“We’re not just playing a game, we’re preserving a tradition,” said Eleanor Wu, 74, one of the founding members. “Mahjong is about memory, strategy and connection. It’s something I learned from my grandmother, and now I’m teaching it to people younger than my grandchildren.”
This holiday season, the group is opening its doors to new members, hoping to share the joy of Mahjong and ensure its legacy continues. Newcomers are greeted with warm cocoa, spare tiles, and friendships that land faster than a winning hand.
Wu, who hosted the first Yuletide celebratory game, transformed her home into a festive hub of conversation and competition. Holiday lights twinkled above folding tables, and the scents of Fraser Fir candles and warm gingerbread filled the air. As a nod to her heritage, she hung red paper lanterns and lucky knot ornaments, traditionally used during Lunar New Year, in the corners of the room.
“The heritage of Mahjong and the joy of the holidays belong together. They both keep traditions alive.”
On the sideboard, trimmed with holly and a strand of velvet ribbon, peppermint bark and gingerbread cookies shared space with Rolling Donkey, a soft rice confection dusted in soybean flour. “It’s chewy, sweet, and a little messy,” Wu said with a laugh. “But it’s a dessert about reunion and that felt right for tonight.”
Ever the gracious host, she tucked small holiday flourishes into every corner: themed scorecards, a bowl of jingle-bell pencils, and for each guest, a tiny mahjong tile ornament to take home. “I wanted the night to feel festive but familiar,” Wu said. “The lanterns are beautiful, and they make the space feel like a celebration of heritage.”
The group plays a mix of traditional Chinese rules and American adaptations, depending on who’s hosting. While some members are seasoned players who can spot a winning hand from across the room, others are just learning the ropes. Patience and encouragement are part of the culture.
“I didn’t grow up with Mahjong, but Eleanor taught me the basics in one night. “I came to learn how to play the game, but I’ve found a new group of friends and have learned about another culture,” said Jared Thompson, 32, who joined last winter after seeing a flyer pinned to an announcement board in the lobby of his Herndon apartment building.
As Mahjong gains popularity among younger generations, the group sees its mission as both cultural and communal. They’ve started documenting their gatherings with photos and short stories, hoping to create a small booklet to share with future members.
“It’s the most intergenerational thing I do,” said Heather Winstead, 28, who joined with her mother earlier this year. “There’s something magical about sitting across from someone in their 80s and realizing you’re both trying to outwit each other with the same set of tiles.”
“We don’t care if you’ve never played before,” Wu added. “We’ll teach you. we’ll probably lose to you by your third game. And if it happens during the holidays, we’ll toast your win with cocoa.”
In that cozy room, heritage and festivity blended, creating memories as enduring as the game itself. But the heart of the tradition remains the same: connection across generations, one tile at a time.