GIVING THANKS
‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving, in the cold desert air,
He adjusted the night scope and gave the ‘all clear out there’.
No campfires were burning, not one single glow.
Heat from his thermos is the only warmth he will know.
The men in his unit volunteered for this post,
Orders aren’t needed with ‘seasoned young pros’.
The bad guys are rumored to travel this way,
He and his brothers will stop them today.
His mind drifts away to a family back home,
Fond memories of kin gathering when ‘Tom’s’ finally done.
Mom in her apron, with flour on her nose,
And Dad with his eggnog, telling boring old jokes.
The men settle down when football began,
Laughing and cheering, placing bets when they can.
The children are playing games in the yard,
With smells from the kitchen, waiting on dinner is hard.
Grandpa fell asleep right there in his chair,
Mischievous brothers would grease up his hair.
Grandma was knitting her sweaters for gifts,
With sharp needles flashing, she’d blow them a kiss.
A radio crackles, ‘Echo 2, we’ll stand down.
Intel reports there’s no bad guys around.’
He shakes away memories like the sands from his face,
What lies ahead in this faraway place?
Off to the east, the sun starts to rise,
What would he give for one taste of Mom’s pies?
“Lord, let them know, though we’re far apart,
I’m right there beside them, giving thanks from the heart.”
"Dedicated to Every Hero Who Proudly Serves"
Lynn Price © November 18, 2006
