It was a nice ceremony. The young man was also a Marine and was to go back to Afghanistan he was unable to. But, he was accompanied by his colleagues... they paid their respects for a loss and I saw the sadness in their eyes, but of course, too strong and prideful as well. They played"Butterfield's Lullaby" also known as "Taps" and during much of the procession bag pipes were being played. Blanks were shot in his honor and lastly, one white dove for every year of his life. Very beautiful ceremony. But, as I was there I couldn't stop thinking of 1998, we had a close family member 19 yrs of age, who was in Guantanamo, (I was 13) who died in friendly fire... I wasn't allowed to go to ceremony but I could only imagine the effect and emotion there too. The handing of the flag to the mom and in yesterday's to both the wife and the mom! Just a beautiful painful sight. I hate to see people in so much pain, but I can't get over how much he was loved and admired and how perfectly it all fit together. They gave a copy of his favorite story which I'm going to share with you...
A Marine's Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house, made all of stone
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
And to see just who, in the house, did live.
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree
No stockings by the fire, just boots filled with sand
On a wall hung pictures, of a distant land
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds
And a sobering thought, came to my mind
This house was different, unlike any I'd seen
For this was the home of a U.S. Marine
I'd heard stories about them and 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 on his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan
And I soon understood, this was more than a man
For I realized, that the families I'd seen tonight
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight
Soon round the nation, the children would play
and grown ups would celebrate, on a bright Christmas day
The enjoyed freedom, each week and all year
Because of Marines, like this one here.
I couldn't help but wonder, how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land, far from home
The thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
He must have awakened, for I heard a rough voice
"Santa don't cry, for this 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, and drifted off to sleep
I couldn't control it and continued to weep
I watched him for hours, so silent and still
And noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I tool 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 Eagle, Globe and Anchor, emblazoned so bold.
And though it barely fit me, I swelled with pride
And for this one shining moment, I was a Marine inside
I didn't want to leave him, so quiet in the night
The guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
But half asleep, he rolled over and said so clean and pure
"Carry on Santa, it's Christmas and all it secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi! And a good night.
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house, made all of stone
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
And to see just who, in the house, did live.
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree
No stockings by the fire, just boots filled with sand
On a wall hung pictures, of a distant land
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds
And a sobering thought, came to my mind
This house was different, unlike any I'd seen
For this was the home of a U.S. Marine
I'd heard stories about them and 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 on his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan
And I soon understood, this was more than a man
For I realized, that the families I'd seen tonight
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight
Soon round the nation, the children would play
and grown ups would celebrate, on a bright Christmas day
The enjoyed freedom, each week and all year
Because of Marines, like this one here.
I couldn't help but wonder, how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land, far from home
The thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
He must have awakened, for I heard a rough voice
"Santa don't cry, for this 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, and drifted off to sleep
I couldn't control it and continued to weep
I watched him for hours, so silent and still
And noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I tool 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 Eagle, Globe and Anchor, emblazoned so bold.
And though it barely fit me, I swelled with pride
And for this one shining moment, I was a Marine inside
I didn't want to leave him, so quiet in the night
The guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
But half asleep, he rolled over and said so clean and pure
"Carry on Santa, it's Christmas and all it secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi! And a good night.
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