Farm children in the years before World War One delighted to find an orange in their Christmas stocking. The brilliant globes of color in the midst of grey winter made the day special according to biographers Laura Ingalls Wilder and Ralph Moody.
Wilder recalled the Christmas blizzard when Alonzo trudged through a blizzard carrying holiday treats. The peppermint sticks and oranges he brought, along with the new mittens her mother had knitted, made a memorable holiday.
In Little Britches, Moody described an economic depression when low crop prices meant his parents had little extra cash for Christmas. Still each of the five children received new socks and shoes. Before reading a book aloud to the family, his mother made a big plate of fudge, a pan of popcorn and prepared the oranges. They could only afford six oranges for the family of seven so, “We divided the oranges into sections. At first Father said for us not to divide them because they always made his teeth sting. But Mother just laughed at him, and we divided them anyway. I didn’t see him squinny up his eyes when he ate some of the sections, either,” Moody wrote.
For many decades the addition of oranges to Christmas candy, made the day special for generations of children. I do not refer to boxes of fancy chocolates but to what is now called “Old Fashion Christmas candy” That is hard candy shaped like a colorful ribbon. I used to enjoy some every year as a child. I rarely see it anymore. All of that served as standard holiday fare: a stocking with an orange in the toe topped with a polished apple, ribbon candy and maybe uncracked nuts.
I often have sliced oranges for our Christmas breakfast. Sometimes the fruit came from gatherings where refreshments included nuts and fresh fruit. Grocery stores tapped into the holiday demand and offered customers stacks of specially decorated crates of fresh apples and oranges. I purchased the crates of fruit to share with family and friends. I still find fresh, plump oranges and firm, red apples irresistible. I thought everyone else felt the same way.
So the year I did not have a co-teacher in Sunday School to make the students a bag of holiday treats, I knew the perfect gift: traditional Christmas stocking fillers of candy, nuts, an apple and an orange. I bought the biggest naval oranges, juicy, red apples and their favorite chocolate candies. I didn’t bother hunting down old fashioned hard ribbon candy, I knew better. I filled each bag anticipating their pleasure. First I put in the best apples and oranges I had found, added the sweets and tossed in a few nuts.
Quite pleased with myself, I carried the treat bags to class. Before the students left that morning, I handed each a bag of goodies. “Wait until you get home before you eat these,” I told the students..
Of course they immediately opened and peeked at the contents. One child dumped out everything and studied them. She smiled at the candy, held an uncracked nut and looked at the fruit. “Why did you give me an orange?” she asked with a puzzled look. She understood candy, but an apple? An orange? Why? Every week her school lunch includes many servings of fresh fruit.
Too late, I realized that big navel oranges, even seedless ones, no longer rank as a holiday luxury. She walked out leaving the bag with its fruit on the table. I picked it up and carried it home. On Christmas morning, I cut the orange into slices for breakfast and enjoyed my holiday treat.