Quote from Forum Archives on December 16, 2005, 3:38 pm

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

"Always Believe in MIRACLES"

   

                  

 

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 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!

 

 

"'Twas the Night Before Jesus Came"

 

             

 

'Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care
In hopes that Jesus would not come there.

 

The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.
And Mom in her rocker with baby on her lap
Was watching the Late Show while I took a nap.

 

When out of the East there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!

 

When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray
I knew in a moment this must be THE DAY!

 

The light of His face made me cover my head
It was Jesus returning just like He had said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

 

In the Book of Life, which was held in His hand,
Was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name;
When He said "It's not here" my head hung in shame.

 

The people whose names had been written with love
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose without a sound
While all the rest were left standing around.

 

I fell to my knees, but it was too late;
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight;
Oh, if only I had been ready tonight.

 

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear;
The coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There's only one life and when comes the last call
We'll find that the Bible was true after all!

 

Have a Blessed Weekend
Dave and Barbara

 

    

 

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