 Towards 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 Jess when his home did live. I looked all about, at the same sight, I didn't see. No tinsals, no presents, not even a tree. No stockings by mantle, just boots filled with sand. On the wall hung pictures of the far distant land. With meadows and badges, a large of all kinds. A sober thought came through my mind. For his house is different, it was dark and dreary. I found the home of a soldier one second secretly. The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone. Thrown up on the floor in this one-bedroom home. The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder. Not how I pictured a United States soldier. Was this the hero of whom I just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed. I realized the families that I saw this night. Older lives to those soldiers who are willing to fight. Soon around the world, the children will play. And grown-ups will celebrate a bright Christmas day. They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year. Because of the soldiers, like the one line here. 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 heart. 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 and I don't ask for more. My life is my God, my country, my core. The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep. I couldn't control it and I continued to wait. I kept watch for hours, so silent and still. I was bold shivering from the cold night's chill. I didn't want to leave on a cold dark night. This guardian of honor, so willing to fight. Then the soldier rolled over with a voice of inferiority. 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 Merry Christmas to all our families. And to all of you today! On a cold Christmas Eve, on a land far away, I f***ed. Different. Because of the soldier's lying here. Oh f***, they... sorry. Whispered, carry on Santa. Was this the hero of whom I just read? Cold shivering from the cold night's chill. What cold? Cold night's chill. Okay, cold night's chill. I don't want to die. And we both shivered from the cold night's chill. Chill. One more time!