A Different Christmas Poem

I wish I could send this to everyone in the United States!

May we always Please Remember Them...

A Different Christmas Poem
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 beside 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 your 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 the 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 sure 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 the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the 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 sisters and brothers..
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 something 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."

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is
due to our U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves
for us.


LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

Many Thanks Go to our U.S Service men and women , May God keep you safe . And brother Mike Wells thank you for send me letter .

Priceless Treasures

Priceless Treasures
What could I give you that would truly please
In topsy-turvy times like these ?
I can’t give you freedom from vexations
Or even lessen your irritations
I can’t take away or even make less
The things that annoy , disturb , and distress
For stores don’t sell a single thing
To make the heart that’s troubled sing
They sell the new look suave and bland
But nothing that lends a helping hand ,
They sell rare gifts that are ultrasmart
But nothing to warm or comfort the heart
The joys of life that cheer and bless ,
The stores don’t sell , I must confess
But friends and prayers are priceless treasures
Beyond all monetary measures …
And so I say a special prayer
that God will keep you in his care …
and if I can ever help you , dear ,
in any way throughout the year ,
you’ve only to call , for as long as I live
such as I have , I freely give !
Jan Bagwell

Who You Are

Who You Are
============

I find myself on the downhill slide of yet another trial in my
life where confusion seemed to be the only thing I was sure of.

Who, what, why, when, how, and how long were the questions I
didn't have answers for.

Last night, I sat quietly and instead of asking,
I just listened.

God whispered to me.

Who I am is a child of His.


Why is something we can only figure out as we go along.
When is always and can never be more than right here and right
now (live for today).

How is only with His help, and how long depends mostly on us.

He explained to me that I am who and what I am
(don't try to be any more or any less) therefore I need to do
and be the best that I can at all times.

I get discouraged,
but I also have the ability to inspire and be inspired.

I become sad sometimes,
but I can also experience joy.

I can become angry,
but I have the heart to console.

I need to be forgiven sometimes (a lot)
but I can also forgive.

I feel helpless at times,
but can still lend a hand or ear to help others.

I am a teacher,
but I still have much to learn.

I get confused,
but deep down I know the answers are within my grasp.

It is the same grasp that boldly lifts my hands to Heaven,
and gently brings me to my knees.

Sometimes I feel lost,
but that is merely an illusion because it is not only enough for
my Father to know where I am and exactly what I am going
through,

He has every hair on my head numbered.

Life is a series of lessons to be learned.
That is the only way we can grow.

I wish I had all the answers, but sometimes I think (I know) the
only way for us to become stronger and grow into what He wants
us to be, is to walk through the fire.

So, whatever you're going through, hold your head up, guard your
heart, and put all your faith and trust in the only ONE who will
never fail you....... JESUS.......

Remember all the things you can be even when you are sometimes
those things you wish you weren't.

Jan Bagwell
MERRY CHRISTMAS

Memories

Precious little memories
Of little things we’ve done
Make the very darkest day
A bright and happy one

Tender little memories
Of some word or deed
Give us strength and courage
When we are in need

Blessed little memories
Help us bear the cross
And soften all the bitterness
Of failure and of loss .

Priceless little memories
Are treasures without price
And though the gatesway of the heart
They lead to paradise .

Jan Bagwell
God Bless and keep each and everyone

The Silver Cord

Some day the silver cord will break
And I no more as now shall sing ;
But , O, the joy when I shall wake
Within the palace of the King

Some day my earthly house will fall ,
I cannot tell how soon ‘twill be ,
But this I know ,my all in all
Has now a place in Heav’n for me .

Some day when fades the golden sun
Beneath the rosy-tinted west
My blessed Lord will say , Well done !”
And I shall enter into rest .

Some day till then I’ll watch and wait ,,
My lamp all trimmed and burning bright ,
That when my Savior opens the gate ,
My soul to Him may take its flight .
Jan Bagwell

Christmas

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations: extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's winter Pageant. I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment--songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row/center stage held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message: Christmas Love.

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her--a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down - totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W." The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W." Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and then we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities. For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: "CHRISTWAS LOVE" And, I believe, He still is.

May we keep this first and foremost during this busy holiday season.

Thanks Dave , Nice letter