Oh Come, Oh Come, Emanuel
I love the story of the Christmas Orange. It is told in many places with several differences, but always ending the same. I read many versions - German, English, Dutch... it seems like everyone has a favorite. I liked certain things about all of them. Because I couldn't find one with EVERYTHING I liked, I took the several ideas and wrote my own version.
Pocket Paper:
The Christmas Orange
Many years ago, in an orphanage in England, there lived a little boy named John. John, like most of the children who lived with him, didn’t remember his parents, indeed, the orphanage had been his whole life.
The children spent the daylight hours on the street looking for ways to make a coin or earn a morsel of food. They considered themselves lucky, though, because they had a place to sleep each night and a bowl of soup each day. But the biggest blessing was theirs on the most anticipated day of the year. On Christmas each child was given a beautiful, fresh, sweet orange as a gift. These oranges were treasured, smelled, admired, and finally savored by a child who knew it would be another year before this pleasure was theirs again.
On Christmas Eve, of the year in which our story takes place, John happened upon an elderly man huddled in an abandoned doorway trying in vain to escape the chill of the winter wind. John could tell by the color of the old mans skin and the sunken features of his face, that it had been a very long time since this man had eaten. John wished that he had something he could share with this stranger, but his only food was the watery soup at the orphanage, and it was forbidden to take the bowls out of the dining hall. It was then that John had a sweet, yet painful idea.
The next morning as the children sat for their soup, they were also given that coveted Christmas orange. John held the round prize up to his nose and drank in the aroma of the citrus. For a minute he soaked in the feel and smell of this precious offering, and then silently rose from his stool and made his way out into the snow. His task seemed simple, but each step required effort as he anticipated giving away the only thing he had to look forward to in his meager life. When he reached the doorway containing the starving stranger, John presented the orange to him without the slightest hesitation. Indeed, the giving was the easiest part and John’s heart was light as he headed back to the orphanage. Upon arriving he stole quietly up to his room. Although he was glad for what he had done, he couldn’t bring himself to see the other children with their oranges – to smell them as they were peeled and see them enjoyed when his was gone.
As he entered the common sleeping room he noticed a small, round lump on his bed. Curiously he made his way over and pulled off the scrap of cloth covering the ball. Under it laid an entire peeled orange! Something about this orange was different though. Then John realized – it was made up of pieces from many different oranges. Each segment was an offering from a child who shared John’s meager existence. Each segment represented the gift of a precious piece of their own treasured Christmas Orange.
Many years ago, in an orphanage in England, there lived a little boy named John. John, like most of the children who lived with him, didn’t remember his parents, indeed, the orphanage had been his whole life.
The children spent the daylight hours on the street looking for ways to make a coin or earn a morsel of food. They considered themselves lucky, though, because they had a place to sleep each night and a bowl of soup each day. But the biggest blessing was theirs on the most anticipated day of the year. On Christmas each child was given a beautiful, fresh, sweet orange as a gift. These oranges were treasured, smelled, admired, and finally savored by a child who knew it would be another year before this pleasure was theirs again.
On Christmas Eve, of the year in which our story takes place, John happened upon an elderly man huddled in an abandoned doorway trying in vain to escape the chill of the winter wind. John could tell by the color of the old mans skin and the sunken features of his face, that it had been a very long time since this man had eaten. John wished that he had something he could share with this stranger, but his only food was the watery soup at the orphanage, and it was forbidden to take the bowls out of the dining hall. It was then that John had a sweet, yet painful idea.
The next morning as the children sat for their soup, they were also given that coveted Christmas orange. John held the round prize up to his nose and drank in the aroma of the citrus. For a minute he soaked in the feel and smell of this precious offering, and then silently rose from his stool and made his way out into the snow. His task seemed simple, but each step required effort as he anticipated giving away the only thing he had to look forward to in his meager life. When he reached the doorway containing the starving stranger, John presented the orange to him without the slightest hesitation. Indeed, the giving was the easiest part and John’s heart was light as he headed back to the orphanage. Upon arriving he stole quietly up to his room. Although he was glad for what he had done, he couldn’t bring himself to see the other children with their oranges – to smell them as they were peeled and see them enjoyed when his was gone.
As he entered the common sleeping room he noticed a small, round lump on his bed. Curiously he made his way over and pulled off the scrap of cloth covering the ball. Under it laid an entire peeled orange! Something about this orange was different though. Then John realized – it was made up of pieces from many different oranges. Each segment was an offering from a child who shared John’s meager existence. Each segment represented the gift of a precious piece of their own treasured Christmas Orange.
.JPG)
No comments:
Post a Comment