Comments on: Christmas Eve Manvotional: The Night of Oranges

By: Charles DeNault

Charles DeNault — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 04:58:54 +0000

I read this story every few months to help keep me grounded. It helps me see past the absurdities of our materialistic society that I often embrace and warms me up a little every team I read it.

By: Tony Versandi

Tony Versandi — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 18:46:06 +0000

Wonderful story! Thanks for posting…Merry Christmas everyone!

By: Marty G

Marty G — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 11:50:25 +0000

Beautiful story, Merry Christmas.

By: Rob Britton

Rob Britton — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 14:48:26 +0000

I was so moved by this essay when it first appeared almost 15 years ago that I tracked down the young author. We met a year later, and Flavius Stan and I have been friends since. I attended his wedding in New York in May 2003. I read the essay on Christmas Eve each year. Flavius now lives in Italy, with his (Italian) wife and young daughter. He has not lost his giving spirit.

By: DaveStPaul

DaveStPaul — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 13:59:52 +0000

I cannot find this article on the NYTimes’ site. Their searches go back to 1851. Are you sure it’s from the Times?

By: Alexandru

Alexandru — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 11:43:21 +0000

Thank you. We, romanians, still eat a lot of oranges around Christmas time but it was something totally different back then.

By: Dan

Dan — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 01:41:46 +0000

I don’t remember this essay, but thank you for sharing it. I do remember the date. My father escaped from Romania in 1968, at the beginning of the Ceacescu regime. Even though we didn’t celebrate Christmas, we certainly did in 1989. This brought back memories of that time as well as expressed what this season should really be about, no matter what one’s religion is.

By: Kenton Sorenson

Kenton Sorenson — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 22:26:31 +0000

Great article! I and a friend visited Timisoara exactly one year after this story took place, and I can testify to the warmth of the Romanian people in the midst of poverty. We gave oranges to the border guards and they treated them like gold, even though I didn’t know why at the time.

But what impressed me more than anything on that trip was that people are the same wherever you go. We all have the same hopes and dreams, and even the same sense of humor once we get past the cultural differences. I met a young man who had a bullet hole in his coat (the bullet missed his body miraculously) from the night of the overthrow of the dictator.

He was quite manly in my view.

By: Tom

Tom — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 07:57:21 +0000

Thank you.

By: Noel

Noel — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 02:59:49 +0000

Cool story. So simple, yet so incredibly poignant. Merry Christmas toe everyone out there tonight.