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Miracles
Dec 25, 2005
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 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 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 lookd 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!
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Posted: Dec 25, 2005 8:14am

 
 
 
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Author

Valerie l lurie
female, age 56, single, 2 children
Tilton, NH, USA
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