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 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 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 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...........
PLEASE, 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 U.S.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
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 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 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...........
PLEASE, 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 U.S.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
3 comments:
Thanks for this beautiful poem, Diana. We do owe our soldiers a lot for their sacrifices for our freedom. And it's good to think about as we contemplate what Jesse and other guys are doing over there in Iraq -- what it has cost them and what it has cost their families who are without them.
But isn't that the essence of the Christmas story? How much more do we owe our LORD, who came from the throne of heaven to this earth of ours (!) to become the greatest sacrifice ever when He willingly went to the cross to die for our ETERNAL FREEDOM from guilt and sin and hell, and our completely empty way of living! We have so very much to be thankful for. We are praying even more, during this Christmas season, for our soldiers and their dear families ... you guys are very much loved.
Diana:
I'm so glad you put this on your
blog site. It has been put to music
and I have heard it requested the
last couple years. But it is always
so true and so easy to forget as we
run hither and yon. But I try to
never forget the sacrifice of those
in the past and now like Jesse as he
serves and has a great family that
also serves. We pray for you all
daily. Go with God. Love, Mom
I love this poem Diana! Thank you for posting it for us to read! I echo mom in that we are all praying for you and the kids and Jesse this holiday season as you are all so far apart. Wish I could be nearer to you all!
Post a Comment