- Messages
- 74
- Reactions
- 202
"Rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. I do not add 'within the limits of the law' because law is often but the tyrant's will, and always so when it violates the rights of the individual." ~ Thomas Jefferson
Best wishes and prayers to all, may we stand strong and tall under the Tree of Liberty.
A Marine Christmas
'Twas 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 in this house what family did live.
As I looked all around, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire, just boots full of sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far away land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
I'd heard stories about them, so I had to see more.
I walked down the hallway and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping. Silent. Alone.
Curled up on the floor of his one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene.
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his face weathered tan.
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families I had seen this night
owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.
Soon around the nation the children would play
and grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They enjoyed freedom each day and all year
because of Marines 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.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
He must have awoken for 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."
With that he rolled over, drifted off 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,
to cover this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold.
With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
Although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride.
For one shining moment I was the Marine Corps deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him, so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on Santa. It's Christmas Day, all's secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and good night.
Best wishes and prayers to all, may we stand strong and tall under the Tree of Liberty.
A Marine Christmas
'Twas 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 in this house what family did live.
As I looked all around, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire, just boots full of sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far away land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
I'd heard stories about them, so I had to see more.
I walked down the hallway and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping. Silent. Alone.
Curled up on the floor of his one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene.
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his face weathered tan.
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families I had seen this night
owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.
Soon around the nation the children would play
and grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They enjoyed freedom each day and all year
because of Marines 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.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
He must have awoken for 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."
With that he rolled over, drifted off 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,
to cover this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold.
With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
Although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride.
For one shining moment I was the Marine Corps deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him, so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on Santa. It's Christmas Day, all's secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and good night.
