Hope: Give it Away

This is from an e-mail I received and thought it was very touching. It reminds us all to give the hope of Jesus as well as the hope for the future to others.

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 t he 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!'>