A Solder's Christmas Poem
‘Twas the night before Christmas, He lived all alone.
In a one bedroom house Made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney With presents to give
And to see just who In this house did live.
I looked all about A strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents Not even a tree.
No stocking by the mantle Just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures Of far distant lands.
With medals and badges Awards of all kinds.
A sober thought Came through my mind.
For this house was different. It was dark and dreary.
I found the home of a soldier Once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping Silent, alone.
Curled on the floor In this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, The room in such disorder.
Not how I pictured A United States soldier.
Was this the hero Of whom I just read?
Curled up on a poncho The floor for a bed?
I realized the families That I saw this night
Owed their lives to these soldiers Who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world The children would play
And grownups would celebrate A bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed their freedom Each month of the year
Because of the soldiers Like the one sleeping here.
I couldn't help wonder How many lay alone
In a land far from home.
The very thought Brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees And started to cry.
The soldier awakened, And I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry. This life is my choice."
"I fight for freedom. I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, My country, My Corps."
The soldier rolled over And drifted to sleep.
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, So silent and still
And we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave On that cold dark night.
This guardian of honor So willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, With a voice soft and pure
Whispered, "Carry on, Santa, It's Christmas Day and all is secure."
One look at my watch And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas, my friend, And to all a good night."
Unknown
Suggestions or Comments
This poem was written by a Marine. The following is his request....
Please, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to
each of our service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe.
Make people stop and think of our heroes, both living and dead, who
scarified themselves for us.
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