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 home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight i did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by 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 up 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'd 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 freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve
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, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend,
and to all a good night."
USAF Lt Col Bruce Lovely wrote this poem Christmas Eve 1993
11 comments:
Hey Aunty, your favorite loud-mouthed Cav Scout in training is on leave from basic training for the holidays (ain't it crazy how they let you lose for Christmas in the Army?) so I'll probably be around here pestering you again for awhile
i hope all our troops stay safe and sound..
/bark bark bark
the blessed fighters. God love 'em and keep them safe.
Aunty, Merry Christmas to you, and your'n, uncle and all the critters.
/grrrr
My church used this poem in a power point-I cried!!!
Merry Christmas!
HEy ya'll! Hope you done said yore prayers for our soldiers---on account of them, we was free to git to churhc, to have a decent dinner and love on our folks--let's us never forgit that we have this luxury because our fellow Americans sacrifice so much.
Butterfyl Girl--yore church is right -on! We had it in our weekely bulletin, but it must have been really powerful on power-point.
I love ya'll all!
Semper Fi
This will cheer the soldiers up for New Year's....
Poor Homeless Tyrant May Be Executed Today
May you and yours have a very happy New Years Aunty B
Ding Dong the Wicked Warlock is Dead!
Happy New Year, all ya'll--yore Aunty Belle loves each o' you sugar pies.
Hey Auntie! I see that you registered at the Happy Extremist, but you haven't made a peep yet. Being a adopted son of the south, I'm feeling alone there at times. Would love for you to come over and keep me company. Have a great new year, regardless.
Adolf Kitler
former Cpl, USAF
Truer words were never spoken than those in that poem, aunty belle.
I hope you'll find the time and the inclination to post over at T.H.E. You're mighty welcome there!
Carolina Peach
Post a Comment