Soldier's Silent Night
In a one-bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
and to see just who in this dwelling did live.
I looked all around a strange sight to see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings on the mantel just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of every kind
A sobering thought came alive in my mind.
This house was different, it was dark, it was dreary,
I had found the home of a soldier, I could see that most clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping silent, alone.
Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
His face was so gentle, the room in such disorder.
Not at all how I pictured a soldier.
Was this the hero of whom Id just read?
Curled up on a poncho, a floor for a bed?
Then I realized the other families that I saw this night
Owed their lives to soldiers who were willing to fight.
In the morning around the world, children would play,
grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
But they all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of soldiers like the one lying here.
I couldnt help but wonder how many lay alone
on a cold Christmas Eve in lands 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 his rough voice,
"Santa dont cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I dont ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
but I couldnt control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
as both of us shivered from the cold nights chill.
I didnt 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 soft and pure,
he whispered "Carry on Santa, its Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, may god bless you this night!