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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 eyes 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.
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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."
"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.
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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 sister and brother..
Who stand at
the front against any and all,
To ensure 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.
It is
payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
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Our
annual contributions are what
make these programs possible.
TRF carefully invests our gifts
for three years, with the
investment earnings going to pay
administrative expenses, and the
full amount of our contributions
going to fund the projects.
Richard
Weed
President
Art 