'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 the mantle
Just boots filled with sand.
One 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 which I'd just recently heard?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the familes
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 these soldiers
Like the one lying here.
I couldn't help but to 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 rought 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. The following is his request, and I think it is reasonable: "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.