Story I wrote about twenty years ago about Christmas traditions and orange peel candy. I print and give with the cookie trays we make. Recipe at the end. OK to share; just credit my name.

Orange Peel Candy

I grew up in the early sixties in Utah, raised with two of my three sisters by my single mother. The terms 'mentally ill', 'homeless', or 'dysfunctional' were not even coined yet- but that would describe my mother and my early life. Back then, in predominantly Mormon Utah, single mothers were rare, and family situations like mine were even more unusual. I remember at an early age realizing how different we were. And despite frequently being evicted, having our power turned off, never having enough to eat or having warm clothes, I was happy in the way that only children can be when they know nothing else.

It was during the Christmas season we felt the most isolated. While other families visited with relatives or friends, it was just my mother (who rarely left her bedroom), my sisters, and me. Santa brought other children bright shiny sleds to play on, but we slid down hills in cardboard boxes. Santa brought other children new clothes, toys, and lots of candy. We got used clothes, shoes, and a few toys that were not too broken. I remember growing up every year with the anticipation and excitement of Christmas, thinking somehow, magically, things would be different. This year we would be like every other family and be straight out of a Norman Rockwell picture. New toys, baking cookies, having family visit, and all the magic of Christmas. But every year brought another disappointment. The worst day was always the first day back in school after Christmas break, when all the other children would show off what they got. It was then that I vowed that if I had children, it would be different. My children would get new clothes, new store-bought toys—we would be just like "normal" people.

I separated from my family at an early age and married young. I escaped most of the problems my mother had except for being able to figure out how to stay married. Four children and three husbands later, I found myself a single parent struggling to make ends meet. I managed to keep a roof over our heads and the electricity going, but there was never extra money for Christmas. But somehow, by scrimping and help from community agencies like the Salvation Army and Toys for Tots, there were always new toys under the tree. My children never knew the kind of Christmas disappointment that I had when growing up. What I did not realize until many years later was that the most important gifts I gave them were not the toys, but something more important... and it all started with orange peel candy.

One Christmas, when the kids were very little and I was still with husband number three, his mother gave us a small tray of homemade Christmas candy. It was lovely, with lots of different kinds of treats—fudge, divinity, and some orange peel candy. I had never had this before. Sugary and colorful, it was easy to be impressed with the entire tray. She had an entire table filled with similar trays, all to be given as gifts to her many visiting relatives and friends.

The next year I continued the tradition and made up my own plates of cookies and candies to give as gifts for Christmas. We started the week before Christmas, and the children and I would start baking and cooking, and we always made orange peel candy. It is a very time-consuming project—you need to boil the peels, change the water, boil again, change the water, boil again, and then carefully scrape the white pith out of each peel. My kids and I would sit around the table scraping the peels, usually while another batch of cookies baked. Scraping pith was not an easy task as the peels break and it is a monotonous job. Not as fun as decorating cookies, but we did it. We made different cookies every year while also burning many a batch in the process, of course. We had a few old stand-bys such as sugared walnuts, oatmeal scotchies, and fudge, and we chocolate-dipped such things as marshmallows, apricots, and pretzels. And so since we could not afford gifts for friends or family, we gave our Christmas treat trays instead, and they were enjoyed by all.

Making up the Christmas trays took up a lot of time. We'd spend hours in the kitchen all together without the TV or the distractions of a busy life. Sometimes it was one child, sometimes two or three, often all four. We laughed, listened to Christmas music, tasted, decorated, mixed, baked, and scraped. Every year, year after year, the week before Christmas, we baked and made orange peel candy.

By the time they were teenagers, I was busy running my midwifery practice and school. I could now afford to buy presents, and we did not need to give homemade goodie trays for Christmas anymore. And with the teens busy with their friends and activities, I proposed maybe we should skip the cookie baking this year since it wasn’t necessary anymore. "No!" they protested. "We have to do it! And yes, it must include the orange peel candy.

So every year in the week before Christmas, somehow I would pull myself away from work, and we would start the baking. One at a time, one teenager or another would help. So, while scraping orange pith, dipping apricots, or stirring mixing bowls, my kids and I would talk. I learned things about them that somehow in our busy lives I missed. The teenage years were rocky, but somehow those moments over scraping orange peels and Christmas baking were precious. These were the times when I'd find out what amazing people my children were becoming.

Before I could blink, they had grown up. They had started their own families, and some had moved far away. But always, the week before Christmas, one or another of them stops by and helps with the Christmas baking. Now my grandchildren help, which makes it even more special, and every year we make orange peel candy.

One year, when my son was a young man, a friend of his came to visit. We had our cookie trays out, and my son said to him, "You have to try this; it is so good."
He pointed to the orange peel candy, and his friend tasted it, but by the look on his face, you could tell he wondered what the big deal was. That is when I realized—it was not how good the candy was; it was the memories that created it.

I fulfilled the promise I had made myself those long years ago in Utah. While I had not given my children expensive toys for Christmas or clothes with designer labels, I gave them something even more precious—childhood memories of love and happy times spent together. This was the joy and magic of Christmas...and it all started with orange peel candy.

Orange Peel Candy Recipe
Remove orange peel in quarters; place in saucepan; cover with cold water. Bring to a boil; cook until tender, pour off water, and add fresh, cold water several times. Drain the peel; scrape off as much of the white pith as possible. Cut in thin strips. Combine 1 cup sugar and water in saucepan; add peel; cook over low heat until syrup is absorbed. Roll strips in the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar until coated. Dry over rack and cool.