[Fwd: FW: A Different Christmas Poem]

[Greg Newell]

Subject: 	FW: A Different Christmas Poem
Date: 	Sun, 19 Nov 2006 14:00:01 -0500
From: 	

	


A Different  Christmas Poem

The embers  glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished  the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside  me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of  white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in  the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids  were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would  sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered,  perhaps I started to dream.

The sound  wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my  ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of  footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to  hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in  the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and  tight.

A soldier, I  puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the  cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me,  and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without  fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack,  brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas  Eve!"

For barely a  moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in  drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed  and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every  night." "It's my duty to stand 
at the front of the line,
That separates 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.
My Gramps died at  'Pearl on a day in  December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My  dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And  now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a  while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her  smile.

Then he bent  and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American  flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my  family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the  sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight  of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who  stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag  will not fall."

"So go back  inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all  right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you  money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all  that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his  eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us  you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while  we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come  home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we  bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to  you as you mattered to us."

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.



LCDR Jeff  Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell  One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq.

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