A prototype of the CR450 EMU (electric multiple units) high-speed train, China's most recently designed high-speed bullet train model, debuted in Beijing on December 29. When operational, it is expected to reach a speed of 400 kilometers per hour, making it the fastest high-speed train in the world. Photo: China Railway

Editor's Note: 

In the details of everyday life lies the true reflection of a country. The "Everyday China" series invites foreign experts and scholars who have lived in China for several years to share their personal experiences and reflections on seemingly ordinary moments. Through their unique perspectives, the series reveals a more authentic, multidimensional and relatable portrait of China. This is the fifth installment in the series.


During my recent journey home from Wuhan to Beijing, and then from Beijing to Brazil to celebrate Christmas and New Year, I witnessed a "miracle" that was not supernatural, but an unexpected resolution born of human kindness.

After four years without returning home, I bought a flight to Brazil departing from Beijing late at night. During my many years living in China, in the city of Wuhan, more than 1,150 kilometers from Beijing, trains became my main way of getting around the country. Dozens of trains run daily, with most completing the journey in four hours to six hours. 

As usual, I took a bullet train from Wuhan to Beijing in the early afternoon. I carried several suitcases full of gifts and a backpack with my laptop and documents.

Accustomed to the efficiency of China's urban logistics, I took the subway to the train station and arrived about 20 minutes before departure. I quickly passed ticket verification - done simply by scanning a passport - and hurried to security, where bags go through X-ray machines. It was there, as I was in a rush, that I became distracted.

I picked up all my suitcases but left my backpack behind. Inside were my laptop and documents. Without it, I could neither work remotely while home nor board my flight in Beijing. I realized what had happened only after I was already on the train, just as it began moving toward Beijing. Panic struck at once. All my planning, organization and trust in high-speed trains now seemed to depend on a true "miracle."

The train attendants responded immediately, with calm efficiency and genuine concern, and guided me to the onboard supervisor, who was waiting in the dining car. She listened carefully, noted the description of my backpack and my travel schedule, and explained the recovery procedure step by step with clarity and composure. According to standard protocol, the backpack would normally be located and sent to Beijing the following day. I explained the urgency - that my flight to Brazil was scheduled for that very night, and that receiving the backpack the same day was essential for me to reach home for Christmas.

Without making any promises, she asked me to wait while the Wuhan station team was contacted. Shortly after, the backpack was located on the security conveyor belt and, within the limits of the system, promptly dispatched on the next train to Beijing - demonstrating both the methodical precision and the quiet solidarity of the people behind the railway.

Upon arrival in Beijing, I was asked to wait with the station staff. There were no raised voices, no chaos - only quiet coordination. That same night, just a few hours after I stepped off the train, my backpack arrived as well and was placed directly into my hands. In my home country, this would have required two near-impossibilities: first, finding the bag, and second, moving it across long distances in such a short time.

What unfolded was more than efficiency. It was the visible result of a society where technology, infrastructure and communication move in unison, guided by method and trust. Steel rails, digital systems and human attention worked together with almost scientific precision. That night, I reached the airport and boarded my flight to Brazil, finally able to celebrate Christmas with my family after many years.

This was my story of something once lost and then found again - one with distinctly Chinese characteristics. In fact, this was not a miracle in the traditional sense - something impossible that happens out of thin air. Not born of chance or magic, but of collective organization, technological mastery and a social fabric capable of turning urgency into resolution. A miracle built not on faith alone, but on coordination, knowledge and the quiet power of people working together.

The author is director of the Brazilian Citizens Council in Beijing and member of the Center for China and Globalization. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn