As we near Christmas let us remember our service men and women.
Twas the Night Before Christmas
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,
and on the wall pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sobering thought came to my mind.
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 solider 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 order,
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?
the home of a solider 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 order,
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 grownup 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
as I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world the children would play,
and grownup 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
as 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."
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 so 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, and 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,
I couldn't control it; I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent so 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, and 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."
Semper Fi!
Peace of Christ to ALL
