|  (A true story) Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came
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> > to see Santa at Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on
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> > his lap, holding a picture of a little girl. "Who is this?" asked
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> > Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?" "Yes, Santa," he
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> > replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly. Santa
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> > glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her
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> > dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "She wanted to come with me to see
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> > you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you,"
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> > he added softly. Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to
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> > the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for
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> > Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over
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> > to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa,
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> > but halted. "What is it?" Santa asked warmly. "Well, I know it's
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> > really too much to ask you, Santa, but," the old woman began, shooing
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> > her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift
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> > which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the
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> > photograph... my granddaughter, well, you see ... she has leukemia and
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> > isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through
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> > tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa, any possible way that you
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> > could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to
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> > see Santa." Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to
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> > leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would
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> > see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that
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> > afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child
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> > lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart,
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> > "this is the least I can do." When Santa finished visiting with all
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> > the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name
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> > of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant
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> > location manager how to get to Children's Hospital. "Why?" Rick
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> > asked, with a puzzled look on his face. Santa relayed to him the
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> > conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon....
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> > I'll take you there," Rick said softly. Rick drove them to the
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> > hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah
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> > was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall. Santa
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> > quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw
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> > little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her
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> > family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met
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> > earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by
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> > the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And
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> > another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair
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> > near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking
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> > quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family,
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> > and their love and concern for Sarah. Taking a deep breath, and
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> > forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a
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> > hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!" "Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she
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> > tried to escape her bed to run to him, IVtubes intact. Santa rushed to
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> > her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own
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> > son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her
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> > skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from
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> > the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was
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> > a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force
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> > himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon
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> > Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women
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> > in the room. As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly
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> > to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand
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> > gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with
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> > shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him
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> > excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd
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> > been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled,
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> > Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for
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> > permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the
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> > entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked
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> > intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels. "Oh, yes,
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> > Santa... I do!" she exclaimed. "Well, I'm going to ask that angels
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> > watch over you," he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa
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> > closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and
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> > heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to
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> > her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes
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> > closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night.... all
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> > is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands,
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> > smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this
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> > moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song ended, Santa sat
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> > on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in
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> > his own. "Now, Sarah, "he said authoritatively, "you have a job to
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> > do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have
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> > fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at
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> > my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky
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> > proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he
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> > "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls
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> > or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE. "Yes, Santa! "Sarah
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> > exclaimed, her eyes bright. He leaned down and kissed her on the
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> > forehead and left the room. Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes
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> > met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed.
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> > Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and
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> > rushed to Santa's side to thank him. "My only child is the same age
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> > as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do."
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> > They nodded with understanding and hugged him. One year later, Santa
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> > Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal
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> > job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a
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> > child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!" "Of
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> > course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at
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> > her. After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make
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> > each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that
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> > moment. "You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw
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> > dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this
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> > little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He
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> > scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her
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> > cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited
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> > just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and
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> > grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
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> > That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed
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> > -- and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this
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> > miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free.
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> > Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly
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> > whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!
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> > If you believe in hope and miracles you will pass this on...especially
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> > at this time of the year.
Wendy
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