The Christmas Orange

Oranges always remind me of Christmas.

Jake lived in an orphanage with nine other young boys. In the winter time it seemed any extra money went for coal to heat the old building. At Christmas, the building always seemed a little warmer and the food a little more plentiful, but more than this—Christmas meant an orange. At Christmas each child received an orange. It was the only time of the year such a rare treat was provided, and it was coveted by each boy like no other thing that they ever possessed.

Each boy would save his orange for several days, admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and contemplating the moment he would eat it. Some would even save it until New Year’s Day or later, much like many of us relish saving our Christmas trees and decorations until New Year’s, just to remind us of the joy of Christmas.

This particular Christmas Day, Jake had broken an orphanage rule. The orphanage mother took Jake’s orange away as punishment for breaking the rules. Jake spent Christmas day empty and alone. Nighttime came and Jake could not sleep; silently, he sobbed because this year he would not have his orange to savor with the other boys.

A soft hand placed on Jake’s shoulder startled him, and an object was quickly shoved into his hands. The child then disappeared into the dark to leave Jake alone to discover a strange looking orange—an orange made from segments of nine other oranges—nine highly prized oranges that had to be eaten that Christmas night, instead of saved, admired, and cherished until a later date.

This year, may the orange remind us all of the unselfish love taught to us by our Savior that we share for each other.