Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=543605" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Soldier's Christmas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone, <br>in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.<br>I had come down the chimney with presents to give, <br>and to see just who in this home did live.<br>I looked all about, a strange sight I did see, <br>no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand, <br>and on the wall pictures of far distant land.<br>With medals and badges, awards of all kinds, <br>a sobering thought came to my mind.<br>For this house was different, so dark and so dreary, <br>the home of a soldier, now I could see clearly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone, <br>curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.<br>The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder, <br>not how I pictured a United States soldier.<br>Was this the hero of whom I'd just read? <br>Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I realized the families that I saw this night, <br>owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.<br>Soon round the world, the children would play, <br>and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.<br>They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year, <br>because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone, <br>on a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.<br>The very thought brought a tear to my eye, <br>I dropped to my knees and started to cry.<br>The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice, <br>'Santa don't cry, this life is my choice; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more, <br>my life is my God, my country, my corps.'<br>the soldier rolled over and soon drifted to sleep, <br>I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.<br>I kept watch for hours, so silent and still, <br>and we both shivered from the cold evening's chill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark, night, <br>this guardian of honor so willing to fight.<br>Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure, <br>whispered, 'Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure.'<br>One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.<br>'Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wade+Blade">Wade Blade</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=543605" data-title="A Soldier's Christmas de Wade Blade" data-description="Twas 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 sight I did see, 
..."></div>
</div>
</div>