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The
Sands of Christmas
I
had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh.
And
looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The
laundry wasn’t finished and the car I had to fix,
My
stocks were down another point, the Chargers lost by six.
And
so with only minutes till by son go home from school
I
gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The
burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
And
so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.
I
came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No
snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And
where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
Eight
Humvees ran a dolumn right behind an M1A.
A
group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens.
Their
eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They
walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
Their
dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a lilent night.
Other
soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To
share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There
wasn’t much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They
had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.
They
didn’t have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They
didn’t need an ornament-they lacked a Christmas tree.
They
didn’t have a present even though it was tradition,
The
only boxes I could see were labeled “ammunition.”
I
felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
He
asked me what it was I feared and why it was I cried.
I
swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near,
and
kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.
“There’s
nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,
Our
heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
To
worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
instead
of wondering if we will be the next to fall.
He
looked at me as children do and said, “it’s always right,
To
thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write”
And
so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
To
thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote:
“God
bless you all and keep you safe and speed your way back home
Remember
that we love you so, and that you’re not alone.
The
gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
You
give the gift of Liberty and that we can’t repay.”
©
By Michael Marks
Used
with permission.
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