NLT
John 11:25-26
Jesus said to her, ‘I am the
resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even
though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.
Do you believe this?'” –
"Peace is not merely a
distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that
goal."
Martin Luther King Jr.
Silent
Night/Still Still Still - Daddy Daughter Duet - Mat and Savanna Shaw
We had the opportunity to
attend a Christmas concert by Mat and Savannah Shaw early this
month. When they performed this song, I knew that I had to use
it sometime this year. This father/daughter duet combines Silent
Night and Still, Still Still.
Pizza bread recipe
2 t. Yeast
1 ½ c. warm water
3 ½ c. flour
2 t. Salt
1 ½ T sugar
Sprinkle yeast over warm
water in a large bowl. Let it sit for 3 minutes. Add in flour, salt,
and sugar. Mix using a spoon just until it comes together.
Add:
2 ½ c favorite toppings
(olives, pepperoni, tomatoes, peppers, anything you like)
½ c. parmesan cheese
Dough will be tacky. Let
rise 1 hour, then put in refrigerator and let rise for another hour.
Take the dough out of the refrigerator. Flour your countertop, then
roll out the dough into a rectangle about 11×18”. Sprinkle
mozzarella over top. Then, fold into thirds to yield a 11 x 6 loaf.
Seal sides so cheese is not exposed. Let your loaf rest while you
preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Bake the bread, either on a
pizza stone or baking sheet, for 30 to 35 minutes, until golden
brown. Halfway through cover loaf with aluminum foil. About 3
minutes before taking it out, lightly brush the top with olive oil
and let it finish baking.
I woke up this morning at
2:33. My brain wouldn’t turn off. It came up with a HUGE list
of things which must be accomplished today. It wouldn’t leave
me alone, so I finally got out of bed and cleaned my kitchen. I
told my brain to be quiet. I told it to leave me alone. I
told it that I needed a silent night and to let me sleep! And then
thought, “uh-oh, I feel a song coming on.” In Amy Grant’s
song “I Need A Silent Night” she says:
I need a silent night,
a holy night
To hear an angel voice
through the chaos and the noise
I need a midnight clear, a
little peace right here
To end this crazy day with a
silent night
That’s exactly what we all
need to find peace at Christmas. We need to create quiet times,
to slow down and escape the rush. My suggestions are to have a
quiet hour as needed. Turn off your electronics and dim the
lights. Play soft Christmas carols in the background. Think about Jesus, his love, his gifts. Count your blessings and take a moment to thank God for them and to
pray for serenity. ~~ Marilee
I seldom use anything related to Santa, but this story is an exception. Christmas Miracle
By Susan Morton Leonard,
Santa’s wife
Santa’s name: Mark Leonard
or Santa Mark
extracted from :
http://academictips.org/blogs/christmas-miracle-real-story/
At the close of this
article, there is a sentence which says “If you find this story
useful, please share with a friend!” Thank you, authors :) I
find this story of great use :)
This is a real Christmas
miracle story, which 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 Leonard who was
a professional Santa Claus to visit the hospital to give Sarah the
gift of hope through encouragement and prayer.
A year later Sarah surprised
Santa by showing up at the mall where he worked. Here goes the story.
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.
“Come on…. 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 excitedly told him 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!”
