A Christmas Poem

'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 mantel, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges - awards of all kind,
A sober thought went 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.
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 was 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;
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 and all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night!"

*(source unknown)