The Christmas Orange
Jake was an orphan.
He was one of ten children who
struggled daily
for his very existence. Usually
hungry, always cold,
they found little in their lives
to provide enjoyment,
except Christmas. Even then, there
was little enough,
though there seemed to be a little
more to eat,
and the home seemed a little
warmer than usual.
But more than this, there was 'the
orange'.
A unique commodity indeed,
it was coveted by each child as
was no other possession.
As with most things we desire,
the having of the orange was the
smaller part of it's enjoyment.
It was the anticipation, the
savoring of it's consumption that
pressed each of them to admire,
compare, hoard,
and love this
orange
until it was shriveled and dead;
often it was New Year's Day before
they actually were eaten.
On this particular Christmas day,
young Jake had somehow offended
his penurious master
in some minor way. His punishment
was the loss
of his precious orange. After a
year of waiting for this rarity,
it was to be denied. His
impassioned declaration of remorse
was to no avail. Jake spent
Christmas day alone and lonely.
The long day was finally over, and
yet Jake could not sleep.
He was convinced that his world
was unloving, uncaring, and
unforgiving. Quietly, he sobbed
for his future,
and perhaps that of the world, but
mostly he cried
because he didn't have an orange.
As he lay in the stillness,
a soft hand was placed on Jake's
shoulder.
Something was placed in his
trembling hands.
The donor quickly
disappeared among the shadows of
the dark,
leaving Jake with something in his
hand,
he could not immediately identify.
He nearly dropped the pieces
before he realized what he was
holding.
It was an orange. This was no
run-of-the-orchard orange,
but one fabricated from the
segments of nine other oranges.
These nine sweet children each
shared a piece of their
highly prized orange with their
friend, Jake.
--------------------
I will stand for truth and
righteousness even if I am the
only one.
~
Author Unknown ~
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