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, IVtubes 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 quicklyand 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!
If you believe in miracles you will pass this
on...I
did!
Hope You Had a Blessed Day!!