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 did I see ...
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree!
No stockings by the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand;
On the wall hung pictures
Of far and 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 house of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone ...
Curled upon 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 just read?
Curled up on a poncho ...
The floor for a bed?
I realized the families
I saw on 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.
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 started to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still;
And we both just 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.
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!
~ Author Unknown ~
