BS: Father Christmas

Subject: BS: Father Christmas
From: Big Phil
Date: 23 Dec 06 - 03:08 PM

You may have seen this before. Makes me think. Hope it makes you do the same........

T'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 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,

C URLED UP ON THE FLOOR, IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,

NOT HOW I PICTURED,A BRITISH 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,

B ECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER, HOW MANY LAY ALONE,

ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE, IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.
THE VERY THOUGHT 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 SHIVERED, FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE, ON THAT COLD,

D ARK, 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 British Peacekeeping soldier stationed Overseas.



The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.
PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can?

Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of the Servicemen and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.
Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe.

Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
Please, do your small part to plant this small seed."

Subject: RE: BS: Father Christmas
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 23 Dec 06 - 04:09 PM

T'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 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 British 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.

I couldn't help wonder, how many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas eve, in a land far from home.
The very thought 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 shivered, from the cold night's 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, 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."


Easier reading like that.

Subject: RE: BS: Father Christmas
From: Big Phil
Date: 23 Dec 06 - 04:36 PM

Thanks "McGrath of Harlow" I just cut and pasted it from another web site as was, your version is much better. It just struck a chord with me when I read it.........

Subject: RE: BS: Father Christmas
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 24 Dec 06 - 02:56 PM

I'd only just realised that Word allows us to change text from Capitals to Lower Case, so I thought I'd try it out.

Subject: RE: BS: Father Christmas
From: mack/misophist
Date: 24 Dec 06 - 09:29 PM

Most things like this are not what they pretend to be. Although a few are honest, most fall into the category of "glurge".

I just did a different search and was pleased to find that this is one of the honest ones. See here

It's interesting, but perhaps inconsequential, does not seem to have been in the military himself.

Subject: RE: BS: Father Christmas
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 25 Dec 06 - 08:21 AM

Interesting to see the variations - aside from the US Marine turned to British soldier, I note this version tones down the hyper-"patriotic" stuff -

"I put on his T-shirt of gray and of black
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on the back.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride
And for a shining moment I was United States Army deep inside..."

The folk process in an Internet age. And, as so often, the folk process knows which bits to leave out.