Santa at the McAllister Mall in Saint John If you believe in miracles

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!

If you believe in miracles
Thanks Kerry .... this story was of particular interest to me due to the location and the fact that it was sent to me by someone at the opposite side of the continent.

I spent many a weekend in McAllister Mall in Saint John (New Brunswick) promoting Dow Chemical's Styrofoam insulation products.