My niece Sarah was almost three months into her hospital stay when Christmas rolled around that year. As we opened presents and thanked God for this time together, my brother told me that Sarah also had a gift for me. It was a gift I will never forget.

A few months earlier, Sarah’s life was forever changed. On October 2nd, 2015, Sarah was finishing another regular Friday that included school and hanging out with her sister before lying down to sleep. She was eleven years old at the time.

Around 10:30 pm that night, my sister-in-law heard strange noises coming from the room upstairs and, by the grace of God, decided to check on Sarah. She entered the bedroom to find Sarah unresponsive and dialed 911. She then alerted my brother, Rick, and he arrived home from work just in time to see the emergency vehicles pulling away from the house with his daughter and wife in the back of an ambulance.

Sarah was rushed to Cooks Children's Hospital in Fort Worth, where the PICU team worked to stabilize her and determined that she had a complex aneurysm. She was given CT scans and a drain tube in her brain, and by mid-day Saturday, she had an angiogram that was being reviewed by doctors from multiple hospital systems in the area. Everyone remarked on how rare it is to see an aneurysm like this in a child, and the teams worked diligently on a plan.

Sarah was soon transferred to Children’s Hospital in Dallas, where she would be under the care of a top vascular neurosurgeon, Dr. Babu Welch. Less than 48 hours after the incident, Sarah was transferred once more to undergo emergency brain surgery at Zale Lipshy University Hospital. It was a Sunday morning, and no one was in the waiting room with us as the medical team opened the operating room on their day off for this life-saving moment.

During the five-hour surgery, Dr. Welch and his team added three clips to the artery in Sarah’s brain to prevent future aneurysms in that spot. When he met with the family after the surgery, he informed my brother and sister-in-law that the repair was successful. He also informed us that the next 28 days would likely be more difficult to survive than the initial aneurysm, as Sarah’s brain would start protecting itself by shutting down other parts of her body.

Sarah was in for the fight of her life. She was placed in the neurological ICU, and the family started a rotation to keep watch over her 24/7. My second daughter was born two months earlier, so I took an extended leave from work and stood by Sarah’s side during the overnight shift from midnight to 7:00 am. Being next to Sarah each night in prayer was one of the great honors of my life. It was also one of the most challenging experiences we have ever faced.

During that month of her ICU stay, Sarah began having strokes, several of which were very intense, causing long-term damage. Every 30 to 45 minutes, all day, every day, the doctors would perform tests on Sarah’s body to gauge her responsiveness. When necessary, they would include angiograms to monitor blood flow.

Her worsening condition required more emergency surgeries and procedures, including an angioplasty to widen some arteries and the removal of the front third of her skull to allow for swelling. Her skull bone was kept in a bone bank and reinserted a few weeks later, which to this day sounds crazy to me as I write it.

Sarah made it.

She survived the first month, and now she could move out of the ICU and back into a regular hospital room for the extended stay ahead. She was soon transferred back to the hospital in Fort Worth, where she would need to learn every essential life function all over again. At that point, she could not talk, eat, walk, laugh, and much more. She could only use one of her arms, and she would indicate her approval or dissatisfaction by squeezing your hand or trying to speak with her eye contact. It was a long road ahead to recovery.

Our entire family came to town for Thanksgiving that year, and Sarah spent about 10 minutes in the hospital cafeteria with her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. While she couldn’t join in the meal or the conversation, our time with Sarah was a stark reminder of why we should be thankful each day.

On Christmas Day, Amanda and I brought our two girls to join Sarah and a small group of family members in the activity centers down the hall from Sarah’s room. We were all set to open presents when my brother let me know that Sarah had a gift she wanted to give to me first. I smiled to myself, thinking that the gift would likely be something Sarah learned to do during her arts and crafts time. But that wasn’t it.

My brother put his arms around Sarah’s support belt and helped her to stand up. I had not seen her stand in over three months and was so proud of her. As my eyes filled with tears, he said that Sarah wanted to give me a hug for Christmas.

I couldn’t believe it. I was finally able to hug my sweet niece while she stood on her own two feet. That hug was the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received, and I plan to hold onto that memory for the rest of my life. Looking at the picture of that hug and typing this story is bringing me incredible joy at this moment, too.

That was just over nine years ago. Later this year, Sarah will turn 21. She is a bundle of energy and happiness these days. She loves her family, Jesus, and a bunch of actors and shows that she rattles off so quickly that I sometimes can’t keep up. She makes everyone smile and constantly looks for ways to help with chores, dishes, and more.

She also gives the best hugs. They are strong and heartfelt, and each one is a special gift to receive.