Friend, here's a sweet story I thought you'd like.

Hi Friend,

I just read this sweet, sweet story and wanted to share it
with you.  I hope it touches your heart as it did mine...

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"Santa, Can You Visit My Granddaughter?"

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 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 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!"

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~ Paul
http://www.ScenicReflections.com

























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Message Added: December 21st, 2007 at 5:49 pm