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"Twas the Night Before Christmas"
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dabo 25344 desperate attention whore postings
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11-15-01, 02:28 AM (EST)
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"Twas the Night Before Christmas"
This arrived in my email as one of those pass it along to so many friends things that I virtually never bother to finish reading, but this is cute so I thought I'd post it here.

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Chirsitmas, 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 in 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 grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day. They all enjoy freedom each month of the year, because of the soldiers, like the one lying here. I couldn't help but 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."

All I can add is let us all pray for the day when soldiers need only stand watch and be ready, when battles need not be fought, when all is truly secure for all the peoples of the world. Till then, a salute to freedom and to all who cherish it, may the holidays be filled with joy.

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