I was born in Oak Park, IL in 1957.  My parents, Phillip and
Joy Steinbauer, moved  to Round Lake Beach when I was 18
months old.  Life was pretty normal until on Valentines Day
1966 my father went out walking and was hit by a drunk driver.  
Within hours he'd gone home to be with the Lord..
Denise's Testimony
Yet I'll never forget my first big lesson in caring.  I was
at the age when I wasn't sure if I should believe in
Santa or not, but "just in case" I wrote a "letter to
Santa" that first Christmas and told him what had
happened.  I said, "Santa, if you are real, please get
some toys for my little sisters.  Don't worry about me.  
Just don't let them down."  I put my little note in an
envelope and put it in the "Santas mailbox" outside our
local post office.

Christmas came right on time, but deep in my heart I
prayed for God to take care of my little sisters.  On
Christmas Eve night, suddenly I heard bells on the
front porch of our home and a deep, loud, and jolly
"HO HO HO!".  Mom went to the door and opened it
up and sure enough, there was Santa with a huge bag
of toys and clothes wrapped in pretty paper with
pretty bows on top.    My sisters squealed with glee
as Santa called their names and handed them gift after
gift.  I stood back grateful that Santa did read my
letter and he did come to my sisters.  I have to admit
that I felt a little sad at the point that I didn't get bold
enough to ask for something for me too, but as Santa
reached the bottom of his sack, he looked at the
present he pulled out and called me name.  "Denise,"
he said.  "That letter you wrote me showed a true act
of unselfishness.  How could I forget you? Here
honey, this one is for you.  God bless you sweetie."   
I'm sure he pulled out more for me, but by then I'd
broken out in tears.  All I wanted was for my sisters
not to hurt, but someone else knew I needed some
love too.   We all thanked him (prompted by mom in
the excitement), but by the time we had
finished....Santa was gone.

Well, that's not the end of the surprise, for what
happened next made even mom second guess about
Santas reality for a moment or two.   Again we heard
bells and a new voice shouting, "HO HO HO".  Had
Santa returned?...did he forget something?..someone?  
 Well in such a short time, Santa got taller and thinner
(as some of this story was told to us by mom), and the
voice not quite as deep.  However, he came back
with .....MORE???????.....Boxes of food and more
toys and even something for my mom and grandma
came this time.  It seems more than just "Santa" knew
about our family and didn't know about our earlier
visit.  It seemed that Christmas there was a lot of love
and plenty of tears to go around.....
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Mom took it pretty hard and quickly developed
physical conditions, including a heart condition.  As the
oldest of three kids, all girls, I had to take over and
help my grandmother take care of my younger sisters.  
Mom had trouble getting Dad's life insurance because
she had to prove the drunk  was at fault.  There was
little time for playing around.  This was the beginning of
growing through hardships, including, struggling for
food and clothes day after day.
I grew up always going to church, always
being read Christian stories to, always
hearing someone whistle or sing a catchy
spiritual tune.  The day I received Jesus’
in my heart as my Lord happened when
some missionaries visited us at AWANAs.  
I remember them talking with us and telling
us how great it was to spread God's word
to those who never heard before...but soon
their voice quieted and their face grew
serious as they told us why it made such a
difference to tell others about Jesus.  It was
then that I heard for the first time, the depth
of what Christ endured for me.  As they
explained His every moment of those last
hours, I KNEW that this was it....I had to
give myself to him.

Accepting Jesus isn't were it all stops, but
where it begins because now came the time
of my growing. Because of not having the
"male" figure in our house, I looked to
relationships, and not Jesus to fill the void.
They all ended in disaster, and I became
sure that even God didn’t want me.
It was a vicious cycle and soon "fell in love"
with someone that I was sure I wanted to
marry....and I did.
If you can't see
God's hand,
trust his heart!
Don't always
look for a
blessing...be
one.....