【正文】 rld celebrates peace and goodwill toward our fellow man. This year, here at St. John39。s wish, but we would like to try and fill a few. As I call your name, please e forward and tell us about your Christmas wish. One after another, the church members shared their wishes, large and small. Margie was the last and the youngest to speak. As she looked out at the congregation, she spoke confidently, I would like for my grandma to have church. She cannot walk, and she and my grandpa have to stay at home. They miss ing so much. So that is what I wish for. And please don39。t sat still all morning. I just know that something wonderful is going to happen today! Of course it will, said her grandma with a chuckle. It39。t too much traffic, so this was really amazing. Margie pushed her grandma to the window so that she could see all the cars. Pretty soon the cars were parked all up and down the road as far as a person could see. Grandpa looked at Grandma, and they both looked at Margie. Grandpa asked, Just what did you wish for, Margie? I wished that you and Grandma could have church. And I just knew that it would e true. Look! There39。 station grumbling about having to work Christmas Day. I was triage nurse that day and had just been out to the waiting room to clean up. Since there were no patients waiting to be seen at the time, I came back to the nurses39。 I was just out there and no one was in the waiting room. Well, there are five signed in. So I went straight out and called the first name. Five bodies showed up at my triage desk, a pale petite woman and four small children in somewhat rumpled clothing. Are you all sick? I asked suspiciously. Yes, she said weakly, and lowered her head. Okay, I replied, unconvinced, who39。t acpanied by the normal body language of holding the head or trying to keep it still or squinting or grimacing. Two children had earaches, but only one could tell me which ear was affected. The mother plained of a cough, but seemed to work to produce it. Something was wrong with the picture. Our hospital policy, however, was not to turn away any patient, so we would see them. When I explained to the mother that it might be a little while before a doctor saw her because, even though the waiting room was empty, ambulances had brought in several, more critical patients, in the back, she responded, Take your time, it39。s a medical emergency. But this one was a Christmas emergency. We were all offered a free meal in the hospital cafeteria on Christmas Day, so we claimed that meal and prepared a banquet for our Christmas guests. We needed presents. We put together oranges and apples in a basket one of our vendors had brought the department for Christmas. We made little goodie bags of stickers we borrowed from the Xray department, candy that one of the doctors had brought the nurses, crayons the hospital had from a recent coloring contest, nurse bear buttons the hospital had given the nurses at annual training day and little fuzzy bears that nurses clipped onto their stethoscopes. We also found a mug, a package of powdered cocoa, and a few other odds and ends. We pulled ribbon and wrapping paper and bells off the department39。s last final. As a freshman she was more than ready to go home for the first time since August. She39。s lit every night of Chanukah. Ellie had been so tempted to pack the menorah earlier that night. However, just as she was getting ready to justify to herself why it was OK to skip the first night39。d have to wait for the candles to burn out before she could leave for the library and (B) she had no clue as to where her candles were hiding her conscience (and mon sense) kicked in. The voice ing from that special place in her body where mother guilt resides said, You have the menorah out, so light it already. Never one to ignore her mother39。s first winter break was uneventful, and when she returned to her dorm on the day before classes started she was surprised to find a small note taped to her door. Thank you, the note said. It was signed Susan. It was dated the day that Ellie had left after finals. Ellie was totally perplexed. She didn39。s door. There, standing in the hall was a woman Ellie didn39。m Susan, she said. I wanted to thank you in person but you39。s me you39。t want to light her menorah either. Not because she was packing, or was heading home, couldn39。d have to light the menorah candles alone. The sisters had always taken turns lighting the first candle and this wasn39。s year. She just couldn39。s place. Susan said that whenever it was Hannah39。d always tease Susan that the candles she lit would burn longer and brighter than when Susan lit them. One year she even went so far as to get a timer out. It had always annoyed Susan that Hannah would say something so stupid but still, it was part of the family tradition. Susan said that it was just too painful to even think about Chanukah without Hannah and she had decided on skipping the entire holiday. Susan said that she had just finished studying and was closing her drapes when she happened to glance across the courtyard of the quad and saw the candles shining in Ellie39。s last turn always would have candles that would burn longer and brighter than any of Susan39。s lights would never go out. They would always be there, in her heart for Susan to see when she needed to reconnect with Hannah. All Susan had to do was close her eyes and remember the candles in the window, the one39。m a patient at the NiyThird Medical Evacuation Hospital near Saigon, Vietnam. Today I39。s impossible to get in a fortable resting position. I39。s mission was to secure the perimeter of Saigon for a Christmas Day celebration featuring Bob Hope and Hollywood39。m filled with anger and hostility. As an infantry bat veteran, I39。t want to be next to him. I want to have an American GI to talk with. As time p