Christmas Stories From the Staff at SPC
My Christmas Wish
My name is Maria and I have a 3 year old son. My only wish this year is to have another child. I know there is only one person in the world that can make this happen, but as a mother who has lost a child before, this is all I ask.
I was very unfortunate 2 years ago. I was 4 months pregnant and to an uncaused illness I lost my child. I realized that one morning when my stomach was hurting more than usually and the pain was not going away. My husband and my mom took me to the hospital to get me check out. That’s when I got the worst news in my life. The doctor told me that I had lost my child. My heart was broken and then there was a new pain, but nothing that I had felt before a pain that you can only be felt by a person carrying a baby inside you for four months and then loosing it. But I was lucky that I had my family to help me through the pain. The pain slowly goes away but it never completely.
My name is Margarita and I have a story I would like to share with you. It’s a story of hope, unconditional love, and a Christmas wish.
My New Year’s Resolution: Let Go and Soar
This past Thanksgiving was a turning point in my life. I fulfilled a long time desire and went zip lining. My boyfriend, Patrick, and I drove to Athens, Texas to visit my sister and her husband for the weekend. Their home in the piney Northeast woods of Texas was a spectacular autumn display. One cool afternoon, we drove through foliage covered hills to check out a newly opened resort featuring zip lining through the trees. I had heard about this sport a few years ago. You put on a harness which is fastened onto a cable. The cable is stretched for hundreds of feet over the ground from one tall tree to the next. There is a small platform station for each tree landing and launching for your next zip along the cable.
“I want to try it!” I announced as I looked out over the red and gold hued hills. My sister and brother-in-law gaped at me, astonished, “Really? You want to do it?” They admitted that they were too chicken. My boyfriend declined, as well. I think I heard him enquiring about life insurance as I harnessed up. I had to join a group of eight strangers as my teammates. They welcomed me and cheered me on, shoving me to the front of the line when we marched up the steps to the first platform high in a tree. “Okay, I’ll go first,” I thought to myself. “This was my choice.” I repeated like a mantra, trying not to look across at the hundreds of feet expanse from this tree to the next one. Was I crazy? I’ve always been a scaredy-cat. I don’t like heights. I don’t even like looking out of windows in tall buildings. And now, I was about to go zipping from tree to tree high in the sky like some flying monkey.
And then, I was off. Zipping through the air. Hundreds of feet above the ground. It was like space travel. I was barreling towards the next tree, but everything seemed to be in slow motion. Maybe I was having a near death experience. I saw my life flashing before my eyes. It was very interesting in a detached feeling sort of way. I watched experiences in my life come and go. Happy times. Painful times. They all sped by. The last several years of my life were probably the hardest, going through a painful divorce. Sometimes I felt like I was going to die from the pain. “Let go.” Now became my mantra. You have to let go. There was no point in hanging on—to pain, to fear. If you want to enjoy the ride, you have to let go. If you want to enjoy life, you have to let go. Now, I was soaring.
That evening my boyfriend proposed marriage to me. As I gazed into his sky blue eyes as he kneeled on bended knee, I saw flashes of my life. Former lovers—good ones, bad ones. “Let go,” I breathed. “Yes, I’ll be your wife—for life.”