A Soldier's "Night Before Christmas" Poem

[tiniree]

My husband, who is a veteran, received this on his computer at work from a friend:

Subject: FW: Twas the night before Christmas like I have never read.


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 is such disorder,
not how I pictured
a United States soldier.

Was this the hero
of whom I 'd just read?
Curled up in 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 grown-ups 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.
The following is his request. I think it is reasonable. 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 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.

[tiniree]

My husband, who is a veteran, received this on his computer at work from a friend:

Subject: FW: Twas the night before Christmas like I have never read.


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 is such disorder,
not how I pictured
a United States soldier.

Was this the hero
of whom I 'd just read?
Curled up in 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 grown-ups 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.
The following is his request. I think it is reasonable. 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 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.

[jodann]

Thank you !! thank you !! thank you !!
God bless all our troops.

Proud to have served my country.

Jodann

[Rich & Zara]

Nice poem ...it comes up here every year ...guess there is nothing wrong with that.

The Soldier's Night Before Christmas ...Collected on the Internet, 1998

Rich

[WillYum]

Thanks Rich, I took pleasure in reading the original. Brought a tear to my eye. Even us vets sometime get so cozy that we forget there are still people out there making sure we can still be cosy. God bless them all, both US and Canadian, that are far from home at this time of year.

WillYum
Vietnam Vet
US Navy '65-'75

[Ed and Cheryl]

To all who have served and are serving....
May God bless these special men and women

THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS by Michael Marks
I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
And looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
>>The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,
>>My stocks weredown another point, the Cowboys lost by six.
And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
>> I gave up onthe drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
>>The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
>> And so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.
I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
>>No snowflakes hungupon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust
>>.And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
>> Eight Humvees ran a column right behind an M1A.
>>A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens >>
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean
.They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight
>>,Their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night
>>.Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind
>>, To share ascrap of mail and dreams of going home again
>>.There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
>> They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.
>>They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
>>They didn't needan ornament--they lacked a Christmas tree.
>>They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
The only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."
I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
He asked me what it was I feared,and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
>>And kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear
>>."There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight
>>Ourheroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
>> Instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall."
>>He looked at me as children do and said, "It's always right,
To thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write."
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
>> To thank the many far from home and this is what we wrote:
"God bless you all and keep you safe and speed your way back home.
>>Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.
>>The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
>>You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay.">>

[tiniree]

Cheryl & Ed,

Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem with us.

May you all have a healthy, happy & most of all, safe holiday season.