Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my home, not a sound could I hear, not even the phone.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
I flipped on the TV and saw a soldier standing there.
It was a young man, perhaps a Marine, with a desert in the background, it was a lonely scene.
And I thought, ‘He’s so far from home and should be on leave, He should be here with his family on Christmas Eve.’
Then the soldier said, “It’s really all right,
I’m over here by choice; I’m here every night.
It’s my duty to stand, at the front of the line,
That separates all of you, from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask, or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here, like my fathers before me.
Grandpa died at Pearl Harbor one December, then he said, “That’s a Christmas, Grandma always remembers.”
“My dad stood his watch, in the jungles of Nam,
And now it’s my turn, and so here I am.
I’ve not seen my own son, in more than a while,
My wife sends me pictures; he’s sure got her smile.”
Then he bent and carefully, pulled from his bag,
The red, white and blue, an American flag,
He said, “I can live through the heat, and being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand firm at the front, against any and all,
To ensure for all time, that this flag will not fall.”
I wondered how I could repay him, for all he’s done, for being away from his wife, his home and his son?
Then I saw in his eye, a tear that held no regret,
“Just pray for us every day, and never forget.”
For when we come home, it will be payment enough,
To know we mattered to you, as you mattered to us.”
Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you,
Jesus Christ and the American Soldier. One died for your soul; the other for your freedom.
