You will love this……it will touch your heart. Grab some tissues ahead of time. Peace and love, Michele
SANTA AND SARAH , a true story .
> > Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at the
> > McAllister Mall in Saint John. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a
> > picture of a little girl.
> >
> > Who is this?” asked Santa, smiling. “Your friend?
> >
> > “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 the 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 in 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 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 McAllister 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 was again back on the set in Saint John 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!
> > McAllister Mall in Saint John. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a
> > picture of a little girl.
> >
> > Who is this?” asked Santa, smiling. “Your friend?
> >
> > “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 the 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 in 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 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 McAllister 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 was again back on the set in Saint John 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!
Facebook Comments