From Deseret News archives:
True Christmas spirit grows on Eliza's tree
Good deeds let family turn daughter's illness into symbol of hope
BOUNTIFUL — There is, on this Christmas morning, a 4-year-old child whose wishes were not fulfilled by Santa.
There are no toys under her tree, no crumpled gift wrap and ribbon, no squeals of delight. Only her penetrating eyes with their dimming gaze straight from heaven, her tiny ears listening to the quiet sound of good deeds recited by loving parents who cherish their daughter's every breath.
Eliza Williams has just experienced what may be her last Christmas morning, cradled in the arms of her small family: mom Nikki, dad Callahan, and baby sister Caroline. Rather than loud laughing or rowdy rough-housing, it is peaceful at the Williams' residence, where the best part of Christmas was scattered under Eliza's tree.
You see, there's a bit of Christmas every day in her world, where the tree in her bedroom corner stands year-round, awaiting the written accounts of gifts given in love and sacrifice by a group of volunteer elves, whose number and geographic distribution grows each year. They are neighbors, extended family, friends and strangers who have been touched by a 20-pound angel who no longer can run, walk, sit, talk, eat or move much of anything but her eyelids.
Her dad says the best part of Christmas comes after the gifts in the living room are cleared away. The family's traditions now include the reading of the dozens of cards and letters under the tree. Each details a tale of service done in Eliza's name by loved ones and people she'll never know.
The running tally of good will will become Eliza's legacy.
Born in March 2005 with metachromatic leukodystrophy — a rare disease that attacks the brain and central nervous system — Eliza appeared normal, not only to parents who were thrilled to welcome their first child, but to doctors who examined her. Then, as she grew into a toddler there were troubling signs: her eyes became crossed and were surgically corrected, only to have one move out of position again; her gait was unsteady; and things just felt "off," says Nikki, a special education teacher who had worked with severely handicapped children for a few years before Eliza was born.
Doctors assured the couple she would grow out of what seemed to be relatively minor problems, and they didn't want to argue. Hope kept them going, as her condition would improve temporarily after specific symptoms were treated.

















