T'was 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 in this home just
who did live.
I looked all about, what a strange sight I
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand.
wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and
badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came to my
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 up on the
floor in his one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the
room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States
Was this the hero of whom I just read,
up on a poncho, the floor for a bed.
I realized the
families that I saw that night,
Owed their lives to those
soldiers who were willing to fight
Soon around the world the children would play,
would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed
freedom each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers
like the one laying here.
I couldn't help wonder how
many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
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."
rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I
continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours so silent and
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier turned over with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day; all is
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good nite