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I’m not sure if this is true
or not – doesn’t matter – because we all know it could be.
Get your tissues out....it's a little long but well
worth the read!! Merry Christmas everyone. Don't forget to take time to
remember and enjoy the True Meaning of Christmas!! It reminds me to not
sweat the small stuff!
Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at :
Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a :
picture of a little girl. "Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your :
friend?" Your sister?
"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is
very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting
nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very
much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to
the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for
Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to
help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but
halted. "What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa,
but ..." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's
elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors.
"The girl in the photograph ... my granddaughter .... well, you see . she
has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she
said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa .... any possible
way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for
Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman
to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would
see what he could do.
Santa thought of little else the rest of that
afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in
that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the
least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and
girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital
where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant manager how to get to
Children's Hospital. "Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier
that day. "C'mon .... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.
Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with
Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would
wait out in the hall. Santa quietly peeked into the room through the
half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of
what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's
brother he had: met earlier that day.
A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently
pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he
discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary,
sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the
warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.
Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the
room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried
to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes intact. Santa rushed to her
side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9
years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale
and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of
chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge,
blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back
tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the
gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room. As he and Sarah began
talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing
Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they
gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and
talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas,
assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together
dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for
permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire
family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands.
Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she
believed in angels. "Oh, yes, Santa ... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you,
"He said. Laying one: hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and
prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this
disease He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when
he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly,
"Silent Night, Holy Night - all is calm, all is bright." The family joined
in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope,
tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song
ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail,
small hands in his own.
"Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a
job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have
fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my
house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky
proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he
"had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or
games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room. Out in
the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them
and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the
room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he
explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with
understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set
in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do.
Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap.
"Hi, Santa! Remember me?"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at
her. After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each
child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped.
Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle
and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized
her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much
different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He
looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines
smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed -- and
been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope.
This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He
silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. Tis
a very, Merry Christmas!" |
