A Christmas Story - Visitor's Story

by Stephanie Smithe
(United States)

I was born in France, although I am not French and I do not live there. Me and my family had to travel alot, and traveling with 3 little sisters is tough to do. But I got used to it. The reason we had to travel is because my dad was in the military and we went everywhere he went. So I didn't get to see him much.

Then the best day of my life was when he retired. Then me and my family actully owned a house. But one day my dad's heart was giving him pain. So he drove to the doctors. When he came back he was quiet and seemed sad. Then that night at dinner my dad told us the bad news we knew was coming. He had cancer. Lung cancer, and they had no cure. And of course I wanted to know when he was going to meet Jesus. And he looked down at his food. He said that the doctors saw that he would die during the month of December. First thing I thought was Christmas. Will he be around?

So when my dad started taking his medicine, his hair started to fall off as does other people with cancer going through with chemotherapy. Every night of December me and my family gathered in the side of his bed and prayed. Then we all slept with him and said goodnight + GOODBYE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. So that even if he died overnight, we knew and he knew that we loved him so much.

My dad hadn't died yet and it was getting very close to Christmas. So me and my sisters and mom and dad went to get a Christmas tree. My dad cut it down every year, and the same went to that year. Now it's Christmas Eve, and my dad grew very weak. We took him to the hospital. And at that moment, I knew that this Christmas was going to be the worst Christmas ever. That day, we got to take dad home because they knew he was going to die in the next day or so. I cried so hard and held him so tight. I didn't want him to go. I was just getting to love him alot because I barely knew him when I was little.

Since we had to pay for my dad's surgeries, therapies, and x-rays, money was very tight. My mom told us we couldn't have Christmas presents. My little sisters were upset because they didn't understand why, so I went out and begged and worked to get them each a doll from Santa.

On Christmas day, my dad was grayish and tired. When my sisters opened their presents, my mom looked at me and smiled. She knew it was from me. My dad thought I was a great older sister and he insisted in going out to mass with us to celebrate our family. We tried to keep him home but he insisted that we went together.

During mass he tried kneeling but he couldn't so he sat. When we got home everything was going great except for when my dad started getting dizzy. My mom took him to the emergency room. But when she came back... dad wasn't with her. I knew what had happened and I looked at her and ran to my room crying.

Ever since then I've gotten my dad a Christmas present and put it at his grave. I don't know why... I guess it makes me feel he is still alive.

Now cancer runs in my family and the most dreadful thing has happened. I am pregnant and apparently I am diagnosed with cancer. I prayed so hard every night and a Christmas miracle happened... The doctor said I overcame the cancer with my strength.

You bet I miss my dad. I sure do, I mean he died when I was only 5 in kindergarten. I've written many Christmas songs about him.