A SOLDIER'S 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 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 thru my mind.
  
 For this house was differnt,
 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 onebedroom 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 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 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 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."
  
 Credit is due to the U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate the holidays
 in whatever fashion we choose. 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 in planting this seed.
 I dedicate this to my nephews, Denny and Kenny, Merry Christmas