It is a time for family, friends and loved ones to
gather together and bring in the Christmas tydings and good cheer.
It is a time to give thanks for the past and present we have and
are about to received.

It is a time not to think only of what we are receiving, but
the hope and peace we share with near and far. We need
to think of those less fortunate people who have
very little or almost next to nothing. We who have love,
homes, clothes, and so much more should be thankful and praying
for the hope of others less fortunate.

"Warmness" wish each and everyone safe travel to and from your
Holday visits. May peace and good will be with you.

I especially want to wish a Merry Christmas and Happy New
year to the friends I have meet when I joined cyberspace and
for all the help they have given me in creating my sites
and (are still helping) and many thanks to you.
Love to all of you and your families.

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.

"What if it were My child lying
in that hospital bed, dying," "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 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 wonderful Christmas

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF
PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED
A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS
WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD,
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;

I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

Frosty in his coat of snow and corn pipe waves cheers
to all who waves back.