A Letter From Santa

 

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 MANTLE,

   JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,

   ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES

   OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

   WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,

   AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,

   A SOBER THOUGHT

   CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

   FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,

   IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,

   I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,

   ONCE 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 DISORDER,

   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 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 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,

   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."

   THE SOLDIER 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 WE BOTH SHIVERED

   FROM THE COLD NIGHT'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,

   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."

   This poem was written by a Marine stationed

   in Okinawa Japan. The following is his request.

   I think it is reasonable.....

   PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of

   sending this to as many people as you can?

   Christmas will be coming soon and some

   credit is due to our U.S. service men and

   women for our being able to celebrate these

   festivities.

   Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of

   what we owe. Make people stop and think

   of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed

   themselves for us. Please, do your small part

   to plant this small seed.