Get your kleenex's out ladies...and gents

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 leukaemia 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 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, IVtubes intact.  Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm
hug.  A child the tender age of his own son -- 4 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 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 hairwas 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!

Wasn't that a sad but wonderful story with a happy ending...i cried like a baby!

Speaking of babies...

Connor weighed 3lbs 12 1/2 ounces

and was 17 inches long..with a head full of hair...the baby is on oxygen for the meantime...but as i've been told both Connor and his mother Sandra are doing good.... =)

Today has been a long day...worked my fingers to the bone i did...lol  Feel like it anyways...so i'm gonna get caught up on my journal alerts...probably missing several as i see i didn't get any comment alerts in my email...so i'm off to read those...then i'm gonna relax tonight ...

Thanks for always being here for me when i need you most Jland...Big Hugs!

                              ~Terri~