# NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS



## hastyrattle (4 Dec 2004)

'TWAS 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. LOOKED ALL ABOUT,  HE LIVED ALL ALONE, 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, 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 CANADIAN SOLDIER. WAS THIS THE 
HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ? CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,  THE FLOOR FOR A BED? I REALIZED 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 ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR, 
BECAUSE OF  THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE. THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY 
EYE,  I DROPPED  TO MY KNEE 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 . 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 COLD NIGHT'S 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 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".


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