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!"
