Merry Christmas, my friends!!! Thanks for all your posts on the last thread, beautiful graphics, beautiful words, all so warms my heart!! Juanita, Fr. Jerry gave me "Jesus Calling" for our 50th Anniversary - I'm surprised and pleased you have it too! It's going along with us to Texas! I just have to trust in God with everything because He's in control - He knows we are counting on Him for safe travels etc. - thanks much for all your prayers for us. Let's keep this thread going all the while I'm gone - I will be on this all week with something to say, I'm sure, and I'll be praying for you all!!
God be with you and Merry Christmas!!
When your burden seems heavier than usual, know that your blessings
are more than usual. Lord, I call on you for the strength, the wisdom
and the confidence that I will need today.
Scripture for the day:
"When they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried
out; for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to
them and said, 'Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.'" ~Mark 6:49-50
Meditation for the day:
I can take the most crowded day without fear. I believe that God is with me
and controlling all. I can let confidence be the motif running through all
the crowded day. I need not be worried, because I know that God is my
helper. Underneath are the everlasting arms of God. I can rest in them,
even though the day be full of things crowding in upon me.
Prayer for the day:
I pray that I may be calm and let nothing upset me. I pray that I may not
let material things control me and choke out spiritual things
SANTA, CAN YOU VISIT MY GRANDDAUGHTER?
Author Unknown
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 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 ad 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!"
THE CHRISTMAS GIFT
Written by Arlene Spanos 2006 (revised 2010)
T’was eight centuries before Christ came to the earth,
The Holy Scriptures foretold of the Messiah’s Birth.
The world was in peril with distress and gloom,
Far and wide there was destruction and doom.
People were lost - they were deaf, blind and dumb;
God promised a Savior one day would come.
The prophesies gave the details of His Birth,
It was certain He’d come to transform the earth.
He’d be born of a virgin, laid in a manger with hay,
Then His Hands and Feet pierced on His final day.
It was told where He’d be born and His Ancestral Line,
He would be King of Kings, completely Divine.
An angel told Mary that she would be the one
To give birth to God’s Child, His Only Begotten Son.
The Lord had a purpose for which He came;
God would be with us – Immanuel, His Name;
Mankind would learn about peace, hope, and joy;
It would all come about in this small Baby Boy.
He was the Prince of Peace, a real Beacon of Light;
Reverent and Righteous; He taught wrong from right.
He came to restore us and showed us to care
And to help one another; He taught us to share.
Many followed and listened to all that He said.
Hearts and lives changed as their souls had been fed.
His Wisdom was divine, far beyond what they’d known;
Many traveled great distance; crowds really had grown.
He was a Humble Servant as He showed us pure love.
He taught us to know our Heavenly Father above.
He was Holy and Sinless, never even told a lie.
He was mocked, and beaten, then crucified to die.
Folks were amazed and confused with all that went on,
They didn’t understand…until He was gone.
He made the sacrifice for our debt to be paid.
For upon Him all of our sins had been laid.
He was Goodness and Grace and came to relieve
The wretched grasp of satan to all who believe.
He was God as a Man to His last dying breath,
Then rose from the dead with His power over death.
This all actually happened, it isn’t folklore.
He told us of Heaven and showed us there’s more.
Christ had come to save the souls on earth,
He offers deliverance and a second birth.
We call Him Jesus and He is with us today;
He is Lord of all Lords and He is the Way.
He’s the Counselor, Comforter, Redeemer and Friend,
He Reigns over all; His Rule never will end.
We celebrate His Birth and all that it means
With songs and displays of Nativity scenes.
His Amazing Grace is the actual reason
That we recognize and rejoice this season.
Again this year we celebrate His Holy Birth;
Merry Christmas to all and to all Peace On Earth!
Christmas Recipe !
1/2 cup of Hugs
4 teaspoons kisses
4 cups of Love
1 cup of Holiday Cheer
1/2 cup of Peace on Earth
3 teaspoons of Christmas Cheer
2 cups of Goodwill Towards Men
1 Sprig of Mistletoe
1 Medium size bag of Christmas Snowflakes
Mix Hugs, Kisses, Smiles, and Love until consistent.
Blend in Holiday Cheer, Peace on Earth,
Christmas Spirit and Goodwill Toward Men.
Use the mixture to fill a large, warm heart where it
can be stored for a lifetime, for it never goes bad!
Serve as desired under Mistletoe, sprinkle liberally with
Christmas Snowflakes
it is especially good when accompanied by Christmas
carols and family get-together.
Serve to one and all!
May God keep you in His loving arms and I pray Jesus walks beside you as you walk the path way God has placed you on. And I pray the Holy Ghost fills you with the Wisdom and the Knowledge to complete all God has placed on your plate each day.
Christmas in prison..
Sister Maurella Schlise, a Catholic nun from Fargo, South Dakota, was spending
the holidays with her family in Florida, and planning a visit to a nearby maximum
security prison on Christmas Eve. "My sister Rosemary and her husband conduct
a weekly prayer meeting there, and they invited me along," Sister says. Although
visitors are not allowed to bring food to the prison, the rules had been relaxed
for Christmas. Rosemary planned to fill little bags with homemade cookies
and candy for the men. For many, it would be their only gift.
That morning, Sister Maurella attended mass. She was thinking about the
inmates, wondering if they could actually experience Christmas behind bars,
when she sensed God's presence, and a message. "Bring one hundred
bags to the prison," it seemed to say.
One hundred! That seemed far too many for Rosemary's usual group of 30 or 40 men. Had the words just been Sister's imagination? Sister talked it over with Rosemary. "Well..." Rosemary decided, "It's a lot, but I'd rather have too many than not enough."
The women spent the day filling one hundred white bags with goodies, then
carefully packed the car. As they came through the prison gates, the chaplain
flagged them down. "The chapel is packed!" he exclaimed. Sister was glad
they had brought extras.
Instead of Rosemary and Pat conducting a meeting, they were surprised to discover
that the convicts themselves had prepared a Christmas program. An inmate with a vibrant voice sang the poignant story of the Little Drummer Boy. Another did the Ave Maria. Several read inspirational pieces, and some prayed. The chapel was hushed, small candles providing the only light.
Finally the program ended, and the men eagerly lined up. Sister Maurella and
Rosemary handed each a white bag. But when all the bags were gone, there
were ten men still standing in line---and no more candy to give away.
Sister stood, shocked and dismayed. How could this have happened? If God had truly spoken to her that morning, why hadn't He told her to bring one hundred and ten bags? What should they do? "God, multiply the bags," Rosemary prayed silently.
But a young convict had also seen their dilemma. "Sister," he spoke quietly,
"we others....we'll share our bags with them."
Sister looked at the faces surrounding her. Men of every color and
nationality, murderers, thieves... But men who now, because of His birthday,
were willing to reach out to others, to give, to care. Tears pricked her eyes.
Suddenly a prison trustee entered the chapel, carrying a sack. "Rosemary,
we had some leftovers from a group that came this morning," he said.
"Can you use these?"
Rosemary took the sack. Inside were ten white bags, each filled with sweets.
Everyone rejoiced as the remaining men received their treats, especially Sister.
She had wondered if Christmas could come in a prison, but now she knew.
Where love is, God is.
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