ONLY ONE ORANGE

When the boxes of Japanese/Mandarin oranges appear in our stores, we know Christmas is nearing. This reminds me of a poignant story.

Ten boys lived in a small orphanage. It was their only home, a roof over their heads, their only family. The house rules were strict; each lad knew his duties and paid careful mind to obey the rules. Food was meager and carefully rationed, especially fresh fruit.
The boys' very favorite highlight of their drearisome life was Christmas and the greatest treat of all was that on Christmas morning every boy got one orange.

The day before Christmas, Harry was working in the yard, but neglected to clean his boots upon entering the house, tracking mud onto the front hall carpet. The angry headmaster meted out immediate punishment. "No orange for you tomorrow morning!"
At dawn, while his friends enjoyed their delicious fruit, the dejected lad wept bitterly as he lay on his cot till evening. All year he had waited for this one orange. The other lads had kept their distance for fear that he would beg a taste of theirs. At evening he knelt in the darkness, on the cold hard floor beside his bed, trying to say his prayers, but words wouldn't come, only moans and tears of disappointment and hurt.

Suddenly he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and a soft lump was placed in his hand. Hesitatingly, he began to unwrap the crunched paper and in it were orange peels, carefully taped together in the shape of a ball. He started to nibble at the tart, bitter pieces. As they fell apart, inside were nine orange pieces.
Each boy had given up one small delicious segment, just for him.

I hope this ORANGE story will be a reminder to share from our abundance with those who have so little.