Daily Archives: December 22, 2012

Lighting a Special Candle

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I don’t know if most of you know about the lighting of the candle. I know it has spread

Christmas candle

Electric candles

rapidly throughout Facebook.

I am asking everyone that had any emotions running rampant from the shooting of those precious babies in CT to follow me. Tomorrow 12/23/ and 12/24, we are all gathering together, and lighting candles periodically over the day. You may choose to light a real one at times or leave an electric one on all through the two days. I will start tomorrow and have an electric one running and from time to time light a real one.

I want to say a prayer.

Lord, our heavenly father. We do not know the reason why these precious babies were taken so early from our earth. I have to trust that you had the perfect reason. I know that each of these precious ones are now sitting on your lap and they are smiling looking into your eyes. They have forgotten all about what has happened, but we here on earth have not forgotten. It remains fresh in our minds even a week and a day later. Lord stay close to the families that are hurting so badly. Help them by showing your love on Christmas morning, as this has to be such a difficult time for them. I am sure there were presents under the trees. Oh how my own heart breaks for them. Take care of them Lord, like you do for the birds that fly in our skies. Love them and comfort them. Let them know that we the world care and we are lighting our candles for them. I love you God and I know you have heard this prayer. Love them as you do me. Amen.

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I Just Have to Share This Touching Story With You!

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Thank-you to Lucy for sharing this heart felt story with me

Santa and me

Santa and me (Photo credit: Kate Sherrill)

SANTA AND SARAH
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!
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Super Sweet Blogging Award

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http://ivonnemontijo.wordpress.com

Ivonne nominated me for this cute award. Look at the picture. Isn’t it just so edible?super-sweet-blogging-award21

Here is a bit of information about Ivonne. She is so bubbly and full of life. I love reading her blogs and chatting with her.

Who am I? Hmnn….that is a question that I am always asking myself and that is always evolving and changing.

I have been a professional actress since the age of 17.

I have been clowning around and doing children’s entertainment since the age of 19, my “day job” so to speak.

I am currently getting receieved my M.A. degree in religious studies from CSULB in May 2011.

I decided that at the age of 50 I would start learning how to play the piano and guitar.

My passions are sex-religion-chocolate-the arts- travel and my dog Missy.  And now we will add music to that list.  Actually music should have always been there as I am a dancer and a dancer must have music.

This blog is where you will find pieces of my soul, my heart, my mind and hopefully my humor……

The questions I’m to answer:

Give credit to the person who chose to nominate you:  Ivonne

Answer the super sweet questions.

  1. Cookies or Cake? cake any day and make it sugar free chocolate with sugar free chocolate frosting, and then put it in cupcake form so I only eat one at a time hehe
  2. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate
  3. Favorite sweet treat?  milk chocolate
  4. When do you crave sweet things the most? sweet things remain in my mind at any time
  5. If you had a sweet nickname, what would it be?  sweet peach

The final requirement for receiving the Super Sweet Blogging Award is to name a baker’s dozen (13) of my favorite bloggers.

Thomas Ross
onlyhereonlynow.wordpress.com

lucewriter
mlmmcastle@aol.com

jmgoyder
jmgoyder.wordpress.com

I Bowed #FWF « Inspiration Import
inspirationimport.wordpress.com/2012/12/22/i-bowe…

sharechair
sharechair.wordpress.com

ramblingsfromamum
emptynestdotme.wordpress.com

tazeinmirzasaad
transcendingbordersblog.wordpress.com

sakuraandme
depressionexists.wordpress.com

1EarthUnited
1earthnow.wordpress.com x
climbseverest@gmail.com

utesmile
utesmile.wordpress.com

rebecca2000
ladyornot.com

Tilly Bud – The Laughing Housewife
thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com

AinaBalagtas
lyricssentimentsandme.wordpress.com

 

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

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http://transcendingbordersblog.wordpress.com/very-inspiring-blogger-award

Taz has nominated me for this award. I want to thank her for thinking of me when she was nominating bloggers.

Here is a bit of what this blogger represents in life.

tazeinmirzasaad

DOWNTOWN AREA-SINGAPORE.

This is the story of my life ,my personal trials and tribulations , the process of my thoughts and the intensity of my feelings, my interactions with my husband and 3 kids .I want to share my life with people ,to reach out to them,help them realise their hidden strengths ,provide them with hope in their darkest hours.Remember, God loves us all, every one is precious and come what may ,He will always be at our side,so here’s to life!!!!

Thank you once again!!!

Daily Prompt; Unpopular/ The Daily Post

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Tell us about a time when you had to choose between two options, and you picked

How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (TV special)

the unpopular choice.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com

When my mother passed a way and the dust settled, dad became very lonely. He went to have coffee and met a couple of ladies. It perked him up some but then a lady he was introduced to made him smile.

She seemed very nice. Pretty and bubbly was a nice way to describe her. What I did notice was how dad’s eyes lit up and  this was such a nicer thing to see than the gloom face. My dad never liked being alone, and so it wasn’t difficult for them to date and become closer and eventually he moved into her house.

For almost a year the two seemed very happy until one day the sky fell around him and me. He got the news that he had Leukemia. It had advanced enough that they even gave him his approximate ending date.

The lady that he was living with changed from beautiful and bubbly to Scarface and Mr. Grinch. Everyone grieves losses in their own way and this woman was grieving the past and the future.

What once came out of her mouth as fables, now came  out as daggers. I took care of my dad while he was sick and he remained living at her house. As he became worse, she would say terrible things about him behind his back, and soon started attacking me with her words also.

The reason for this was because she had not completely healed from her own loss of losing her husband and now the man she was attracted to was going to die also. To protect herself from more pain, she became the devil in disguise.

It got so bad that I didn’t want to go there. Every time I tried to make things better, she dug me in a deeper hole. I knew that my dad had caught on to what she was doing as her hidden words had made their way out of the closet.

I asked my dad if he wouldn’t rather go home. I told him I could take care of him at home just as well as I could at her house, but he said no. The presence of her being around 24/7 made him feel better. He explained to me to just bite my tongue, as he didn’t want to die alone.

He would rather have someone than no one. This broke me up so much. I hated going there. I tried to ignore her foul mouth and just take care of dad. Although I understood the mechanics of what made her the way she was, it didn’t mean dad and I liked it.

He died in her house. He was laying in a bed and I was laying beside him holding his hand. He looked at me one last time and told me,”I love you.” I am glad I stuck it out, but I wish for his and my sake his fear of loneliness would have been only surface deep.

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