Merry CHRISTmas To Our Soldiers

The following poems and words by Michael Marks have truly blessed me and touched my heart, and I hope and pray they do the same for you. I wanted to post them this CHRISTmas as a reminder to all of us. A reminder as to just who is helping to protect our country and the God given freedoms we have been fortunate enough to be blessed with — including the celebration of Christmas or whatever else, if anything, one chooses to celebrate this time of year.

Sadly, in a time of war and world run amok with political correctness, our soldiers are forced to fight battles like policemen with their hands tied behind their backs. What is more, they are being dragged into court by our own government and treated as if they are the terrorists all while the Islamofascists (Muslim fanatics/extremists) are being afforded Constitutional rights that they should not be getting under any circumstances (research and study the Geneva Conventions).

With that said, I dedicate this post with gratitude and love from the bottom of my heart to the countless men and women who have served and continue to serve in the U.S. Armed Forces as well as those who gave their lives for their country and the God given liberties we all so deeply cherish. Your sacrifices are appreciated beyond words and will never be forgotten. I daily pray for and look forward to the day you all come home. I wish a Merry CHRISTmas to you and yours, and may God bless you always.

God Bless,
David
±†±

“A SOLDIER’S CHRISTMAS”

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 eye 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 “It’s 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 sisters and brothers
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To insure 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.”

© Copyright December 7, 2000 by Michael Marks

Author’s Note:
In loving appreciation of the countless Americans who have, and continue to serve in the Armed Forces and those who gave their life for their country. Your sacrifices will never be forgotten. We look forward to the day you come home. God bless and keep you always, and God Bless America.

A Soldier’s Christmas was the first in this series of patriotic writings, drafted on Pearl Harbor Day 2000 when in the wake of the 2000 Presidential Election our nation saw the right of US Armed Forces personnel openly questioned and debated. I felt it unconscionable that at the onset of the Christmas season, those serving to defend our nation would hear anything but our love and support. It is our challenge to stand for their rights at home while they stand for our lives and safety overseas. This poem went out and quickly spread around the world in emails, letters, and magazines. I received letters from Marines in Bosnia, soldiers in Okinawa, from a submariner who xeroxed a copy for everyone on his sub. Moms wrote, dads, brothers and sisters. I have saved and cherish every letter and set out to continue writing throughout the year.

“THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS”

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The laundry wasn’t finished and the car I had to fix,
My stocks were down another point, the Dolphins lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
eight hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn’t much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease;
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn’t have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn’t need an ornament — they lacked a Christmas Tree.
They didn’t have a present even though it was tradition;
the only boxes I could see were labeled “ammunition.”

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side;
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There’s nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,
our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
to worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said it’s always right,
to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote,

God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you’re not alone.
The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
You give the gift of liberty and that we can’t repay.

© Copyright December 2003 by Michael Marks

Author’s Note:
Christmas tugs at the heart more so than any other time of the year, and in 2003 I found myself watching the news and reflecting on the young men and women facing a very different Christmas than those we knew here at home. Once again, I wrote with the hope of sharing how much America appreciates the service that keeps us safe and how much we pray for the safe homecoming of all who serve.

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