’Twas The Night Before
Christmas 2001
| ’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 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 evening’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. | ||
| CHANGE wishes readers a Merry Christmas. | ||
