• 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 Fi and goodnight.