‘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,
And on the wall pictures
Of far distant lands. |
With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought
Came to my mind.
|
For this house was different,
So dark and so dreary,
The home of a soldier,
Now 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 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 evening’s chill. |
I didn’t want to leave
On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight. |
When 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.” |
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