rivera

Twas the night before Christmas,
And 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 just who in this home did live.
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did 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 a far distant land.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kind,
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,
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.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene.
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom Id just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his 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 around the Nation,
the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate
on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed liberty,
each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one here.

I couldnt 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 them, and I don't ask for more.
My life is my country, and, 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 and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered 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.
And although it barely fit me,
I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment,
I was a Marine 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,
and in a voice clean and pure,
"Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas and all is secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend,
Semper Fi and goodnight.