after the ~ disgust ~ post, i ran across this poem on the net, and wanted to reproduce it here.

“It 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 the 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 solder 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 lone British soldier
Was this the hero of whom i’d just read
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed

I realised 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 enjoy freedom each month of the year
Because of the soldiers like the one lying here
I couldn’t help wonder how many 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 sat and shivered, from the cold night’s 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 soft and pure
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.. and to all a good night”

This poem was written by a peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. The following is his request: i think its is reasonable. “Please would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can. Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our British Servicemen and Women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Lets try in this small way to pay back a tiny bit of what we owe.”

I couldn’t put it better myself.

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