THE
GIFT
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
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 SOON
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."
cheqnet.net)