Season Of Hope

This is a story forwarded to me, and I wanted to share it.

> Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at
> the McAllister Mall in Saint John. The child climbed up on his lap,
> holding a picture of a little girl.
> Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend?
> "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 the 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 in 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 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 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 McAllister 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 Saint John 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!
Please share this with someone else.
Zenny123 Zenny123
46-50, M
1 Response Dec 12, 2012

where did you find that out

It was sent to me from a woman I know in Newfoundland. I am not sure where she got it from.

that is neat