Let us all remember our soldiers
and the sacrifices they make
to assure us the beautiful message of

"Peace on Earth"

 

T'was 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.

And 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.

 

This poem was written
by a Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan.

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 our U.S. 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,
living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

Please, do your small part to plant this small seed."

 


 

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.

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 soon 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 goodnight."