A Soldier Comes Home

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through our house
Things seemed normal, just like years before.

The turkey was cooked and the eggnog was made,
And the Christmas wreath hung on the door.

All the gifts were wrapped neatly and under the tree,
Everything seemed to be in its place,
But where once sat our son at the table with us,
There was now just a big empty space.

It had been three long years since we'd last seen our son,
He was fighting in a war far away,
But he'd promised that, somehow, if God let him live,
He'd be home with us this Christmas Day.

All the years of his youth flashed before me that night
As I patiently sat by the phone.
I could see his small hands that had once smudged our walls,
Oh, what I'd give to just have my son home!

I remembered that first baseball game that he played,
"17" was the number he wore,
And his little heart broke when his team lost that day,
He said, "Man, I just shoulda' done more!"

And the day that he left, how that stuck in my mind,
He said, "Mom, don't you worry 'bout me,
I got something to do for my country right now, 
But, I'll be back home again soon, you'll see".

Then a knock at the door brought me back from my trance,
For a minute I barely could breathe,
Was it him?  Oh, please God.....then I opened the door,
And what I saw made me fall to my knees.

Standing there at the door, with his suitcase and gifts,
Was our son that we'd missed for so long,
And no Christmas could ever be better than this,
Because God had brought our soldier home.

Copyright, Theresia Rogers.
All rights reserved by author.