i got this as a e-mail from my brother a marine.
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 Soldier (Marine, Sailor, or Airman), 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"
>
> "Its 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.
>
> WE ALL NEED TO PRAY FOR OUR MILITARY PERSONNEL EVERY NIGHT, THEY ARE IN
> SOME VERY VERY TIGHT PLACES.
>
>
>
>