For those who sit at home safe and sound and think they have a peaceful solution to all the Worlds problems.
The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived,
In a one-bedroom house, made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give,
And to see just whom, 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 the mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came to 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 and alone,
Curled up on a poncho, in this one-bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured an Australian soldier.
Was the hero of whom I just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realised the families, that I saw that night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon around the world 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 I started to cry.
The soldier awakened, and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this 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 chill.
I didn’t want to leave on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honour, so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over with a voice so soft and pure,
Whispered “carry on Santa, it’s Christmas day, all is secure.”
One look at my watch and I new he was right.
“ Merry Christmas my friend and to all a goodnight.”
This poem was written by a Peacekeeping soldier, stationed overseas.
The following is his request. I think is reasonable…
PLEASE. Would you do me this favour of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our Australian 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.