I was an elf again this weekend for fantasy flight. For those of you who don't know, it is an organization that takes homeless and low socio-economic children from the area and takes them on a trip to the "north pole." On Saturday the kids fly on an airplane to "get there," meet Santa, play games, get all kinds of gifts (including some they specifically asked santa for), eat more treats than they could ever want, and get some basic items (sweatshirts, school supplies, hats, gloves, etc) that they need. It is really a dream night for these kids. I was assigned to a young girl who lives in a homeless shelter. She couldn't believe it when she met Santa and "he was real" with a real beard and everything. It is a very exhausting day, but so wonderful for both the children and the elves. These kids cannot believe that they are getting stuff that is "just for them," and are sadly terrified to part with their coats at the beginning of the night over fear that they won't get them back. We write their names in permanent marker on everything they get so it can't be stolen or sold by family members. Even though the over all theme of the night is fun, fun, fun, reality sets in every once in a while. You suddenly realize that these kids go "home" to homeless shelters. There is the occasional kid who wants nothing more from Santa than a new blanket because they are cold at night. And this year a fear of mine came true. I am a substitute teacher, so I see many kids from two different districts. I always worried that I would see a kid I knew. This year I saw a kid I taught only a few weeks ago. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice (which would have led to me making up some sort of story about how I am and elf and a teacher). However, I was hit with one of those lessons that only God can give. This student was challenging the day I taught him. I remember really struggling to keep my patience. If I had known what life outside of school looked like for him maybe I would have been more intentional about showing him love and care. Maybe it shouldn't matter. Maybe I should treat every person I meet like their life is truly difficult, and like they are in need of extra love and encouragement.
My favorite station at the North Pole was the petting the reindeer.

This morning I was an elf for a new, related event. The activities were very similar, only we didn't fly on a plane this time and the kids had their families with them. And the kids have terminal illnesses. This was so much harder for me than working with the homeless kids. These kids are literally dying. Some came with bald heads, others in wheelchairs. Their siblings all acted far too mature for their age. Like they have experienced more hurt than anyone should ever have to face. The parents hugged each other and fought back tears. We elves had to fight to pull it together, too. The family I worked with had five kids. The little 7 year old boy who was sick in their family couldn't make it. He had a tumor removed on Wednesday, then turned 7 the next day. He told his parents that getting his tumor removed was the best birthday gift he had ever received. His family was still invited to come even though he was stuck in the hospital. One of the kids mentioned that it was their last Christmas all together. The kids wouldn't even open their gifts until they got to the hospital with their brother. The parents thanked us profusely for giving their kids a chance to just be kids and be happy. I wish I knew that all the kids today would be okay, but the truth is that most of them won't. In fact, the head elf decided to remove one of the stations from Saturday night. The "fix it" station was one where kids got to meet the elf nurse and get little first aid kits to take with them. The head elf said that it didn't seem right to have a "fix it" station for kids with illnesses that cannot be fixed. It is so hard knowing how these families are hurting everyday. Illnesses like we saw today affect more than just the ill child. Even the little 3 year old boy in our group understood that his brother was dying. I found myself asking "why them?" Why do they have to be sick? Then the scary thought came to mind-why not us? Why did God choose to spare us such pain up to this point? It could very easily be my family or yours at the North Pole with terminal kids, yet for some reason God has spared us. It gives a whole lot of perspective to life.
Fo