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A Secure Christmas Day
(Playing ~ a Christmas morn medley)

(I have learned that the version I had here for several years,
though almost the same, had been altered from the original
which was written by a Marine and was Marine-specific.
It was entitled "Merry Christmas, My Friend."
Herein is now the true original version.)

 

'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 F.

~ the true author,
former Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt ......

..... stationed at Marine Barracks, Washington, D.C.,
wrote this poem in 1986.  The poem was placed in the
Marine Corps Gazette, distributed worldwide and later published
in
Leatherneck, magazine of the Marines, in December, 1991.

 

 

St. Danny Lee Kilgore, serving at present in Iraq,*
husband of my great-niece, Brooke McDaniel Kilgore ...

* Update ... Danny came home safely!

.. also dedicated to all our fighting U. S. servicemen and women
in all branches of our armed forces, living and dead,
who fought and are still fighting to give us freedom.
Because of them, we are each able to celebrate
our holiday festivities.We honor them for their sacrifices!

 

I'd love it if you would sign my guest book ... click on my picture.  

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