Saturday, December 25, 2004


Just wanted to share this story.........ENJOY and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!



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
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 location 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 in tact.
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
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
-- muchdifferent 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!

1 comment:

cneinhorn said...

very nice.....Happy HOlidays to you :-)