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!"
If you believe in miracles you will pass this on..I did!
Robert L Fleming