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| WaitingforJesus | Dec 31 2006, 01:44 PM |
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What an incredible story of faith, hope, and the undeniable >power of prayer! Enjoy and may God bless you all! > > > > > >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 >gran daughter .. 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 a 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, indeed!" |
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| A Christmas Miracle · Humor | |
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