Santa and Sarah
Author unknown, submitted by Wavelene Denniston
Three
years ago, a little boy and his
grandmother came to see Santa at the McAllister Mall in Saint John,
Nfld. 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!
Author
may be Mark R. Leonard, or his wife.
However, the links on the Internet are not active. Snopes says the
truth of
this is undetermined. TruthorFiction.com says it is true. You decide!
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