Last June brought historic flooding to people all over the Midwest. With precious little warning, people watched in horror as their basements filled with flood water. Some watched it happen; others left for the danger that just being in their homes posed.

In the end, many lost homes, vehicles, even jobs — as flood waters ravaged their towns, raged angrily over croplands, and washed out roads and bridges.

But among some of the most profound losses were possessions that held sentimental value — including all things Christmas. Understandably, buying Christmas decorations would not be first on the list when there are so many other financial “firsts” to prioritize.

What we found is that flood water is powerful, but not as powerful as the human spirit.

Peggy Streufert Prickett heard and felt the pain of the people of Spencer — some of whom she heard were not going to celebrate Christmas because they were too sad. Her heart ached for these people, so on social media she created, “The Magic of Christmas,” a vehicle for people to donate new or gently-used Christmas items — trees, ornaments, decorations, stockings, lights, etc., or monetary donations — so that those who lost their Christmas things could start putting that part of their lives back together.

Streufert Prickett put the word out for donations, and they came (ironically) flooding in.

Local individuals and families, as well as families from across the country, donated. Businesses donated and even offered to be collection sites from the time the movement began in August until early November. Finally, the day came when people could come to Bethany Lutheran Church in Spencer to browse and take a few things “home” (some to FEMA housing).

The long line told the short story of the devastation of home and heart from the flood.

I asked Peggy if she was ready for the emotions she would see on distribution day; she said, “I’ve been so emotional putting this together that I do think I’m ready for that.”

Tired people came to get Christmas trees, ornaments, stockings and decor, and be filled with the love and compassion of others who sympathized with them in their pain of losing all of their sentimental Christmas mementos. There was live Christmas music, a free raffle for prizes for flood families; Christmas cookies and goodies, balloon animals for kids, pictures with Santa, and fellowship with other flood families who understood each other’s brand of pain.

Some donated wrapping paper, which I thought was a sign of faith and hope — that some of those people might have the money or ingenuity to actually gift other people this Christmas.

And there were tears.

“When I first saw this on (social media) I thought it was amazing that they would make this possible, with most of us having lost all of our Christmas things,” said a Spencer woman as she placed items in her car. “Losing the mementos and ornaments that you’ve had throughout the years, and losing the tree … was really difficult. There will be new traditions now, because the ‘old stuff’ is gone, but the memories are there.”

Tammi Harrison lost her entire basement and its contents. Her voice cracked as she wiped her eyes, pulled herself together and said, “It’s a lot to know people care so much,” she said. “Some of those Christmas things are irreplaceable, but this is so nice.”

Dawn and Joey DeBoer lost their basement and first floor in the flood.

“The people who put this together deserve a lot of credit … even walking through there was hard for me, because how do you replace 45 years of your life?”

DeBoer found two ornaments that were the same as ones she had at home before the flood. She was in awe as she gazed at them, the memories flooding back. They were two pieces of the tapestry of their family’s life in two small ornaments that meant so much to her.

It was pure Christmas magic.

The people of Spencer were sucker punched with unspeakable flooding and suffering … but this event was one woman’s idea to pick them up, take their hands, look into their eyes and say, “Everything’s going to be alright.”

And as people “shopped,” cried and shared with others in the same situation, they had the beautiful chance to relearn firsthand that of all the gifts, love and compassion are the best.

Yes, Virginia, there really is a Santa Claus.

Karen Schwaller writes from her grain and livestock farm near Milford, Iowa. She can be reached at kschwaller@evertek.net.