MERRY CHRISTMAS VETERANS

This page is dedicated to all Veterans who served,
and still serve, their country to ensure
that each of us can live where freedom
of religion is a right, not a privilege.
Without you, there would be no Christmas.
I ask all who view this page to take a moment
this Christmas morning to remember those who
paid the ultimate sacrifice and to pray for
those who cannot be with their families.

A SOLDIER'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

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 house did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight did I see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stockings 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
Of this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I had 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 on 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.

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.
If anyone knows his name, please e-mail me so that I can give proper credit.

To the best of my knowledge, this background is public domain.
If anyone knows the creator, please e-mail me so proper credit can be given.