‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a 1 bedroom house, made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And to see in this home, just who did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With Medals and Badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Durled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States Soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I saw on this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers that 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 the soldiers, 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.
This very thought, brough a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees, and started to cry.
The soldier awakended and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God, my Country, my Corps.”
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
And we both shivered from the night’s very cold chill.
I didn’t want to leave on that cold, dark, night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, “Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas, all is secure.”
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
“Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night.”

Tribute To Cpl. Michael D. Anderson, Jr.
by ProFlight Steve

Our Lord bless you and keep you as you lay in Jesus’ arms. I look forward to the day when he will call your name as it is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life and say, “Enter your rest, my good and faithful servant”. –Dave”