A friend sent this to me.  I apologize to those who
have already seen 
it, but it is worth taking the time to read if you
haven't already...

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.

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.

"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.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That

we mattered to you

as you mattered to us.