Heavenly Peace, A Christmas Memory

Heavenly Peace, a Christmas Memory

By John Henkels, Strongsville OH

Fourteen years have now passed since losing our Samuel. He lived to see just one Christmas. I remember much of that special Yuletide but other memories already are slipping. Sammy had been diagnosed seven weeks earlier with a catastrophic disease known as HLH. Prayers at the time were of course for healing but also simply to have him home for Christmas. Weeks in the ICU, chemotherapy infusions and spinal taps had become Sammy’s existence. Answered prayers brought Sammy home as that holy night neared. Despite his suffering, Sammy found a way to giggle and clown with his brothers. Two-year-old Zach would entertain him with singing and dancing…and elicit big grins and laughter. Sam and twin brother Jacob would roll on the floor or roam in their walkers, always together.

Suzanne and I found our joy being home with our sons, videoing the frivolity and shopping for our angels. Of all the days of our lives…these were the very precious best. But that joyous Christmas Eve fell into disarray when Sammy awoke cranky and pale. With her “mom instincts” screeching, Suzanne phoned the hospital that she and Sammy were on the way. Hoping and praying separately and simultaneously, Suzanne and I pleaded for a quick fix.

“He needs blood,” Suzanne informed me earlier. “His color is all wrong and he is too fussy.” Who was I to argue with instincts? Just those few weeks ago the idea of our son needing a transfusion was so frightening. Now, it was a routine part of his care.

At home, the boys and I tried to be festive. Carols played and the grinchy Grinch made us laugh. But phone calls trickled in with bad news. The ER was busy and the wait long to get Sammy’s blood drawn—the lab results even slower. Suzanne’s tears were near as she explained Sammy would be have to be admitted to the hematology/oncology floor for blood products—red cells and platelets. Her instincts were on the money. A joyful Christmas was jeopardized by our own Grinch, that foul disease HLH. At the hospital, Suzanne fiercely fought the bureaucracy to complete the treatments and earn Sammy’s release.  One hour before Christmas arrived; she trudged through our door bearing a gift, our precious Sammy, asleep in her arms.

Many memories are foggy of our lone Christmas together. Others are crystallized and stored forever…like seeing the stress melt from Suzanne’s face as we looked in on our sleeping angels minutes later…and the radiance of pure love creep into her eyes as a slow sweet smile illuminated her face…like a thousand watts of bliss.

When Sammy stirred in the quiet hours deep in that holy night, it was my turn to comfort. Amidst twinkling tree lights of red and blue and the greatest and most sacred of Christmas hymns, Silent Night, softly playing, Sammy drifted into slumber. And I reveled in the peace of rocking this precious child in my arms. The wonder of Christmas filled me with awe as I contemplated glories streaming from heaven above, an angel bringing good tidings of great joy and a child born in a stable two-thousand years ago. Quiet and peace were not part of our chaotic lives, but that night I was enveloped in a cocoon of serenity, peace and the joy of Christmas as I rocked this infant sleeping in such heavenly peace. Chaos would return, and Sammy’s fight would be lost. But this peaceful interlude will always remain my most treasured Christmas memory.

Authors note: Sammy succumbed to HLH eight months later after a brutal fight. Read his inspiring story: Samuel’s Mission A Family’s Return to JOY available at Amazon.com, B&N.com and downloadable to any device.