Welcome to Son to Soldier. We started this blog as a way to journal our son's journey to become a soldier and a medic in the U.S. Army (HOOAH!) This has been and continues to be an exciting adventure for our entire family. We have covered lots of new territory and continue to learn more and more every day. We will be posting son's letters, pictures, and will try to keep you updated. And I'm sure we'll also have lots of posts from Mom since she's just a tiny bit proud!! I LOVE being an ARMY MOM!

(*I absolutely hate having to put a big ole watermark on front of my photos. In order to keep from doing this, I ask that you please ask permission before copying or downloading pictures. Thanks :)

Thursday, December 6, 2012

A Soldiers Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all a lone,
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 the home did live.

I looked all about - a strange sight did I see.
No tinsel.  No presents - not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With  medals and badges - awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought came to my mind.
For this house was different - so dark and so dreary.
The home of a solider I'd found....once I could see clearly.

I'd heard stories about them.  I had to see more.
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping; silent...alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.

His face was so gentle.  His room in disorder.
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up in his poncho - the floor for a bed?

His head was clean shaven.  His weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
Owed their lives to these men 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 soldiers like this one, laying right here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve so far from home.
Just 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 life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, country, family and Corps."

With that he rolled over and drifted back into sleep.
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours - so silent, so still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took off my jacket - the one made of red.
And I covered this soldier from his toe to his head.
And I put on his t-shirt of gray and of black,
With and eagle and Army patch embroidered on back.

And although it'd not fit, my heart swelled with pride.
For one shining moment I was US Army inside.
I didn't want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over and whispered with a voice clean and pure,
"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.
~Lt. Col. Bruce Lovely, USAF

No comments:

Post a Comment