Excellent Volunteers are blessed one-hundred fold. John's Best Christmas by LadyMary      Contest Winner  Special people are special blessings.

Category:  General Non-Fiction   Posted:  December 7, 2008      Views: 247

ABOUT LADYMARY  After taking several paths in life, LadyMary is delighted to have some time to enjoy writing that comes from her inner spirit. Surrounded by a wonderful family and grateful for the blessing of strong faith, she is grateful for several triumphs over challenges. She is also appreciative for the writing talents of her parents, even if it was done in a very private manner. Her life experiences include being a twin, sharing her married life with the only fellow she ever dated, being blessed with daughters who have given her terrific grandsons, starting college a the age of 34 while working in the chemical industry, and formally retiring years later as the Chief Financial Officer of the first college she attended. Retirement, however, is not in her vocabulary, and volunteer work and helping others in her Pocono Mountains, PA surroundings brings great satisfaction. She very much enjoys reading, writing, the company of dear friends and the fine folks she has met through Fanstory. She has won several contests. The contest submission A Simple Life's Legacy was the first place winner in the contest After your death. What a Gem was the first place winner in the contest After your death. My Sincerest Condolences was the first place winner in the contest After your death. Portfolio | Become A Fan Wonderful memories cascade like a waterfall when I think about Christmases spent with family and friends. Yet one very special Christmas party glows in my heart like the brightest star atop a perfect tree. It took a while for the star to shine, but shine it did. My husband, Frank, is actively involved in a fraternal organization that is dedicated to doing charitable works. One of the group's commitments is an annual Christmas party held at a sheltered workshop in early December. Employees, or "associates" as they are called, are comprised of mentally challenged individuals. Some are young adults and some are old enough to be grandparents. Several have Down's syndrome. Last year, Frank asked if I would like to attend to assist at the party. "Joe and Harry's wives are going."  I had loved working as a volunteer with the brain-injured in the past, so I didn't hesitate. "Sure," I responded. Two days later, on the 5th of December, we arrived at the workshop. We were escorted to a brightly decorated dining room to join our friends, and then were taken on a tour of the facility. Each associate was busily engaged in assembling parts for air filters. Some waved, some smiled, but all were intent on the work at hand. From there, we proceeded to the dining room. The associates were treated to pizza, and students from the local elementary school joined in to sing Christmas and Hanukkah songs. Then "Jingle Bells" signaled the arrival of Santa Claus. The cheers became deafening. Lots of hugs were exchanged between jolly St. Nick and the associates. Christmas spirit was in the air. Every face glowed. Just as Santa got comfortable in his overstuffed chair, one young man, John, stepped forward. "Santa, I need to talk to you." "Certainly, John." "Santa, my Dad is so good to me. Every day he gets up extra early to get me here before he goes to his job where he works very hard for all of us. My Mom is very sick, Santa. I love them both so much, but this year I need your help. Santa, can you bring my Mom a new heart for Christmas?" While those of us serving as Santa's helpers tried to stifle our tears, Santa kept his cool, responding, "John, I'm going to try very hard to help your Mom get a new heart for Christmas." John gave Santa a big hug. "Thank you, Santa. I love you." So moved by John's request, I later approached him at the table where he was sitting with his friends. Putting my arm on his shoulder, I said, "John, I heard what you said to Santa. I just want you to know that all the people who came to visit today will be praying for your Mom." John jumped out of his seat, startling me, gave a bear hug, and said "You promise?" "Yes, I promise, John. What is your Mom's name?" Immediately, John took a napkin and in crayon wrote, "P A T R I C I A    S C H L E N." Thrusting the napkin into my hand, John voiced for all to hear, "They're gonna pray for my Mom." We left the party and upon arrival home, I emailed all those on my address list, related what had transpired at the party and asked everyone to pray for Patricia Sclen. Responses came flooding back, assuring that prayers were being said across the country. Throughout this year, I was asked if I knew what happened to John's mother. I did not, but we all continued to pray. Just yesterday, we returned to the workshop for this year's party. On our way there, I told Frank that I was nervous. "Why?" he asked. "You've worked with the mentally challenged for years." "No, I've prayed and wondered all year what became of John's mother. I'm so afraid of what I'm going to hear." Events unfolded just as they had last year. Holiday spirit filled the rooms. I found myself searching the cafeteria for John. I knew I'd immediately recognize him. There he was in his Santa hat, with "John" across the brim in glittered letters. I took a deep breath, and stepped aside. I passed by some offices, stopping at one that identified the occupant as the Business Manager. "Excuse me, Miss McCarthy, I was wondering if you could help me." I then related the events of the prior Christmas party. Miss McCarthy apologized. "I've only been with the workshoop for four months and don't know anything about John's mother." My heart sank, as I could not bring myself to ask John personally. Returning to the party room, I couldn't keep my eyes off  of John as the singing and celebration continued. As Santa was about to take his leave, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Miss McCarthy. "I asked my boss about John's mother. She had emergency open-heart surgery on Christmas Eve last year. She is fine, and in fact she now volunteers at our other facility." Santa's promise? Prayers answered? Some of both? Merry Christmas! Contest Winner Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Author Notes I am blessed with a wonderful family. Each day is a gift. The story is true. Only the name, Patricia Sclen, has been changed to respect her privacy. Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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