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       #Post#: 101--------------------------------------------------
       Christmas miracle – real story!
       By: Admin Date: June 13, 2013, 12:47 am
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       This is a real Christmas miracle story, happened in December
       1997 in Wisconsin, USA.
       A little girl named Sarah had leukemia and was not expected to
       live to see Christmas. Her brother and grandmother went to the
       mall to ask Mark Lenonard who was a professional Santa Claus to
       visit the hospital to give Sarah the gift of hope through
       encouragement and paryer.
       A year later Sarah surprised Santa by showing up at the mall
       where he worked. Here goes the story.
       [hr]
       A little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at The
       Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on santa’s 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 anyway, 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 Rick, 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.
       “Common….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.
       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!”
       By Susan Morton Leonard, Santa’s wife
       Santa’s name: Mark Leonard or Santa Mark
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