My Dad Sent Me This

And I can think of no better place to send it to than here.

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 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!