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I received this and thought I would share it with you guys

> ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE

>

> IT WAS 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 JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE

>

> I LOOKED ALL ABOUT A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE

> NO TINSEL NO PRESENTS NOT EVEN A TREE

> NO STOCKING BY THE 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

> CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME

>

> THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER

> NOT HOW I PICTURED A LONE BRITISH SOLDIER

> WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ

> CURLED UP ON A PONCHO THE FLOOR FOR A BED

>

> I REALISED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT

> OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT

> SOON ROUND THE WORLD THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY

> AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY

>

> THEY ALL ENJOY FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR

> BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE

> I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY ALONE

> ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME

>

> THE VERY THOUGH BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE

> I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY

> THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND 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'

>

> 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 SAT AND SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHTS CHILL

> I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD DARK NIGHT

> THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOUR SO WILLING TO FIGHT

>

> THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE

> WHISPERED 'CARRY ON SANTA ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE'

> ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT

> 'MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT'

>

> THIS POEM WAS WRITTEN BY A PEACE KEEPING SOLDIER STATIONED OVERSEAS

wow... very deep.

SlipStream;725804 wrote: wow... very deep.


Thats what I thought, how are you Dave?

Wow...very thought provoking......Sent gooseys up my spine.

SuzyB;725805 wrote: Thats what I thought, how are you Dave?




thanks 4 the pms Suz.

May I post the original so there's a copy to hand? I take it from the Snopes article which says:The poem's author is James M. Schmidt, who was a Lance Corporal stationed in Washington, D.C., when he wrote the poem back in 1986. As Corporal Schmidt told us in December 2002: The true story is that while a Lance Corporal serving as Battalion Counter Sniper at the Marine Barracks 8th & I, Washington, DC, under Commandant P.X. Kelly and Battalion Commander D.J. Myers [in 1986], I wrote this poem to hang on the door of the Gym in the BEQ. When Colonel Myers came upon it, he read it and immediately had copies sent to each department at the Barracks and promptly dismissed the entire Battalion early for Christmas leave. The poem was placed that day in the Marine Corps Gazette, distributed worldwide and later submitted to Leatherneck Magazine.

I had a look with google and the variations are such now that the first hundred copies I found had just three references to the original U S Marine, a lot of United States Soldier and an assortment of other specialist branches - lone British, Australian, Canadian, Peacekeeping, Unspecified, Airman Soldier, Infantry Soldier, French Foreign Legionnaire, I didn't look past those but I concede I found no Al Qaida representative talking to Santa. Yet.

A man who lived down the road from me appealed once for people not to change his song lyrics, I expect I can find what he wrote if I look... "Many Gentlemen have done my brother and me (though without naming us) the honour to reprint many of our hymns. Now they are perfectly welcome to do so, provided they print them just as they are. But I desire that they would not attempt to mend them - for they really are not able. None of them is able to mend either the sense or the verse. Therefore I must beg the one of these two favours: either to let them stand just as they are, to take them for better for worse; or to add the true reading in the margin, or at the bottom of the page; that we may no longer be accountable either for the nonsense or doggerel of other men."

Here it is:Merry Christmas, My Friend



Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,

In a one bedroom house made of plaster & 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 I’d 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 freedom, each month and all year,

because of Marines like this 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 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 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, and in a voice clean and pure,

said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,

Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

Thanks Spot

They play that on the radio here, read by an elderly man , very moving, if I can scrounge it up do you want me too send it to you?

Wow.....that actually put a lump in my throat