CHRISTMAS DAY 19 – THE CHRISTMAS ORANGE

Maybe because my sister adopted 3 siblings who, over the years, have shared many stories from their 6 years of living in a Russian Orphanage. Maybe because I was given up for adoption as a baby and am grateful that an orphanage wasn’t my fate too. The Christmas Orange is one of my favorite Christmas stories. Even people who have little to give, still seem to be very giving — maybe more so, because they have a greater sense of appreciation for everything they receive.

THE CHRISTMAS ORANGE – anonymous

Jake was a resident of an orphan’s home, one of ten children supported by what contributions the home could secure on a continuous struggle. There was very little to eat, but at Christmas there always seemed to be a little more than usual to eat, and the home seemed a little warmer. It was a time for more than usual enjoyment, but more than this, there was the orange. At Christmas time, each child received an orange; the only time of year that such a rare item was provided… and it was coveted by each child like no other thing they ever possessed. They would save it for several days, admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and contemplating the moment when they would eat it. Truly, it was a “piece de resistance” to the Christmas tide, and the year, for many would wait until New Year’s Day or later to eat it.

   This Christmas day, Jake had offended the rules of authority at the home in some manner and his punishment was loss of the orange privilege. After a year of waiting for this rare occasion, and this most desired of all rewards, it was to be denied. The plaintiff’s pleading was to no avail. Although the offense was rather minor, still it was an infraction of such rules that must govern in regulated society. Jake spent Christmas Day empty and alone… it even seemed the other children didn’t want to associate with a person who didn’t have an orange.

   Night time arrived and this was the worst time of all for Jake; he could not sleep. There could be no God that would permit a contrite little soul to suffer so much by himself. Silently, he sobbed for the future of mankind, and perhaps the world, but mostly because he didn’t have an orange like the other kids had.

   A soft hand placed on Jake’s shoulder startled him momentarily and an object was quickly shoved into his hands. The donor disappeared into the dark of the room, leaving Jake with what he did not immediately identify as an orange. Not a regular run-of-the-orange, but one fabricated from segments of nine other oranges. Nine other highly prized oranges that would, of necessity, be eaten this day instead of several days hence. Everyone had shared a little so that he too could enjoy the greatest prize of the Christmas season — not just the orange, but knowing that at least nine people in the world cared about Jake that Christmas.