I post this every year and so it is that time again to honor those separated from their families and friends as well as those who have served . Tidefan’s has a lot of new folks who may like it. God bless and Merry Christmas!
Author Unknown
'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.
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 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, 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 eyes,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa dont' 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,
whisperd, "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.
Author Unknown
'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.
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 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, 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 eyes,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa dont' 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,
whisperd, "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.
