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'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 on the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand.
On the wall there hung pictures
Of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds.
A sobering thought
Just came through my mind.
For this house was different.
It was dark and so dreary.
I'd found the home of a soldier;
Once, I could see clearly.
I had heard stories about them,
I had to see more,
So I walked down the hall
And pushed open the door.
And there he 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 on a poncho,
His floor for a bed?
His head was clean shaven,
His weathered face, tan.
I understood this was more
Than a mere mortal man.
For I realized the families
That 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
On a bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers
Like this one lying here.
I couldn't help but wonder
How many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.
That very thought
Brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees,
And I 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 ask for no more.
My life is .... my God,
My Country and my Corps."
With that he 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 both of us shivered
From the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket,
The one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier
From his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt
Of gray and black,
With an eagle and Army patch
Embroidered on back.
And 'though it barely fit me,
I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment,
I was U. S. Army deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him,
On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight.
Then, the soldier rolled over.
With a voice clean and pure,
He 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."