Fw: CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle!! Read all,
it will touch your heart, enjoy.
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----- Forwarded Message -----
Sent: Monday, 24 December 2012 4:33 PM
Subject: CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle!! Read all, it will touch your heart, enjoy.
Sent: Monday, 24 December 2012 4:33 PM
Subject: CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle!! Read all, it will touch your heart, enjoy.
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CHRISTMAS MEMORIES:
A Real Christmas Miracle |
Christmas Miracle
When I recall precious Christmas memories, I think of a very
special story, one which represents the magic and glory of the season. This is
a true story, as told to me by my husband -- a professional Santa Claus -- of a
real Christmas miracle which he experienced. A story that I think will cause
YOU to believe ...
Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to
see my 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 a 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 intact.
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!"
Publisher's Note:: This story has circulated widely on the
Internet over the last 3 years with "Author Unknown" in the byline.
That was how I originally received the story and published it. With a sense of
relief and gratitude I can now give credit where credit is due. The story was
told by Mark R. Leonard, a professional Santa Claus and written by his wife,
Susan Leonard, a.k.a "Mrs. Claus:" http://www.geocities.com/santa_mark/miraclestory.html.
No copyright infringement was or is intended.
