Santa

[ragtop69gs]

Merry Christmas & Many Blessings to all.

 

Three

years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa

at the 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 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

ofHOPE.

 

 

 

"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 u p 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!"

 

 

 

If you

believe in miracles you will pass this on. I did!!

 

 

 

LIFE IS

GOD'S GIFT TO YOU ... HOW YOU LIVE IT IS YOUR GIFT TO GOD,

YOURSELF AND LOVED ONES.

[Carbon_One]

I've seen this before and always need to dry my eyes when reading it. Thanks Jay for reminding us not all gifts come in a box.

Larry