• 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
    And a strange sight did I see
    No tinsel, no present, not even a tree

    No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand
    On the wall hung pictures of far distant land
    With medals and badges
    Awards of all kinds

    For this house was different
    It was dark and dreary
    For I had just found the home of a soldier
    Once I could see clearly

    The soldier lay sleeping, along, curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home
    The face was so gentle, but the room in such disorder
    Not how I pictured a U.S. Soldier

    Then what to my wandering eyes did I see?
    Manuscripts documenting honorable acts
    Committed by a U.S. Soldier

    Was this the hero of whom I just read?!
    Curled up on a blanket, the floor for a bed?!
    I then realized that the families I saw this night
    Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight

    Soon, around 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 but wonder how many lie 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 continued to cry

    The soldier awakened and I heard a soft voice
    "Santa. Don't cry. This life is my choice;
    I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more
    My life is my country, my God, and my Corps."

    The Soldier rolled over and continued to sleep
    I couldn't control it and continued to weep

    I kept watch for hours, so silent and still
    We both shivered from a cold night's chill

    I didn't want to leave this Guardian of Honor so willing to fight
    Especially in that cold, dark night

    Then the soldier rolled over, and with a voice soft and pure, whispered
    "Carry on, Santa.
    Its Christmas day. All is secure, No hostiles in sight."

    One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
    "Merry Christmas my friend. And to all a good night!"