I see the countless Christmas Trees around the world below, with tiny lights, like heaven’s stars, reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away that tear, for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear, but the sounds of music can’t compare with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring, for it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me. I see the pain inside your heart, but I am not so far away.

We really aren’t apart. So be happy for me dear ones.

You know I hold you dear, and be glad I’m spending Christmas, with Jesus Christ this year.

I send you each a special gift, from my heavenly home above.

I send you each a memory of, my undying love.

After all “Love” is the gift, more precious than pure gold.

It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other, as my Father said to do, for I can’t count the blessing or love he has for each of you.

So, have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear.

Remember, I’m spending Christmas, with Jesus Christ this year.

T’was 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 just who in this home did live,

I looked all about, a strange site did I see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree,
No stockings by the mantle, Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distance lands.

With Medals and badges, Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I had found the home of a soldier once I could see clearly
I heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.

The solider lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up in this, His one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder
Not how I pictured a United States Solider.

Was this the War Hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more than a man.
I realized the families that I saw this night
Owed they’re lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world the children would play
And grownups celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of these soldiers like the one lying here.

I 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 eye
Dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The Soldier awakened and I hear a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this is my life my choice:
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more
My life is my god, my country my Corps.”

The Solider rolled over and soon drifted to sleep
I couldn’t control it I started to weep.
I kept watch for hours. So silent and still
And we both shivered from the cold nights chill.

I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.
I didn’t want to leave on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
Then the Solider rolled over with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, “Carry on Santa, Christmas Day is Secure”

One look at my watch and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend and to all a good night.

Hold on to what is good

Even if it is a handful of earth

Hold on to what you believe in

Even if it is a tree which stands by itself

Hold on to what you must do

Even if it is a long way from here

Hold on to life

Even if it is easier to let go

Hold on to my hand

Even when I have gone away

- – - Pueblo Indian prayer