Thursday, August 09, 2007

Pray for our troops



Our American soldiers have sacrificed so much for the freedoms of America. The least that we can do for them is thank God for them and pray that he will protect them. I think of those who have given their lives for us in Iraq. For instance, my cousin, he is in Iraq and lost two of the men in his unit to a road side bomb. If you were to ask him his feelings of those things that had happened, he would tell you that he is willingly over there like all of our soldiers. Now, it is time that we here back home stand up and thank them for what they do. I am amazed at how much people down our troops. It breaks my heart to see people who do not even think of our troops. Even if one does not agree with the war, we can still appreciate our troops. They are out there fighting those who came into America on September 11, 2001, and killed those in the Twin Towers (World Trade Center). Please take time to read this following poem as it has touched myself deeply. It is rather lengthy but you will be touched by it if you read it with an open heart. May it be a blessing to you.


The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter besid me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down you pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to
stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December.'
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in teh jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sue got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and teh being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "Harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
But isn't there someting I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

- Author Unknown -

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