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The Hidden Gifts Are Found At Christmas!
by Carol Jones Saint
 Traditionally, we think of Christmas as being a very happy and joyful season of the year. But such was not the case for our family in 1987.
In February, my oldest brother was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Two weeks later, my sister's husband lost his long battle with kidney cancer. One month later, my youngest brother was diagnosed with lymphoma cancer. As the Christmas season was approaching, our family thought, "How are we going to get through Christmas this year -- with the loss of one dear one and two others now fighting cancer?"
Certainly, the "fear nots" found in the Christmas story in Matthew and Luke took on new meaning for us.
But then, things became even worse. My oldest brother got the news that his thyroid cancer had worsened and that a right-radical neck resection would have to be done on December 23. He protested, "But can't this wait until after Christmas?" And the surgeon replied, "NO, time is of the essence."
The surgery took place on the 23rd, and certainly a hospital is not one's choice of a place to spend the day before Christmas and Christmas Eve. However, we decorated my brother's room at Saint Vincent Health Center, and nurses came from all over to see and get into the Christmas spirit.
My brother was still very groggy as my sister and I prepared to leave his room late on Christmas Eve. Then, he reached over to the smaller drawer beside the bed and pulled out an envelope, handed it to us, and said, "You can't read this until you get home."
Arriving home, we read a very sweet and precious letter from our brother. In it, he wished us a Merry Christmas; then told us two special places to look for two special things. To our surprise, and with tears coming down our cheeks, we found beautifully wrapped gifts for each of his two sisters. We were overcome to realize that despite all his pain and concern over the upcoming surgery, he had taken time to remember the true spirit of Christmas: Thinking of and giving to others.
The Christmas of 1987, which we thought was going to be a very sad and difficult one, turned out to be a Christmas I will always remember. In 1995, my brother lost his battle with cancer, but that Christmas letter is still one of my treasured possessions.
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