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  Dec 11 at 3:37 PM

  Joy is not necessarily the absence of suffering, it is the presence of God.

  
  

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  John 14:27  Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. 

  
  

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  Donny Osmond Christmas

  A Soldier's King

  audio recording with still pictures of soldiers

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ja-7nRKLrsM

  
  

  No one seemed to notice

  The man beside the road

  He was just a ragged soldier

  Out there in the cold

  But he seemed to have a purpose

  Only known to him

  As he walked along the streets that night

  Through the town of Bethlehem

  
  

  In his head he held a memory

  Of all the wars he'd known

  In his hand he clutched a medal

  For the bravery he'd shown

  And the weight of every battle

  He carried in his heart

  But his eyes were clear and searching

  For a manger in the dark

  [Chorus]

  Some are born to greatness

  Some are born to fall

  Some are bound to be forgotten

  Like they never lived at all

  But we're all born to know Him

  And stand before His light

  Like the soldier who found his king tonight

  
  

  He had marched for politicians

  Served under their command

  And he fought for all the causes

  That he did not understand

  But there was something deep inside him now

  That led him on his way

  With a single star to guide him

  To where the baby lay

  
  

  [Chorus]

  
  

  He stood before the Son of God

  Come to pay our debt

  He smiled up at the soldier

  That the world would soon forget

  So he held out his medal

  And said this for you I bring

  There he swore allegiance 

  To the newborn baby king

  
  

  [Chorus]

  
  

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  Every Christmas I include a tribute letter to those serving in the military and their families.  It's hard to be apart at any time, but being apart over the holidays is the pits.  I thank them for their sacrifice.  Here are some progams available to help serve vets and their families.  As a side note, the US post office will no longer accept mail addressed to “any soldier” or “any wounded soldier”  Take the time to let them know that you care.  ~~  Marilee

  
  

  Holidays for Heroes

  The Red Cross Holidays for Heroes program enables Americans to “Give Something That Means Something” this holiday season and other holidays year-round. We are inviting the public to join their local Red Cross offices to thank and recognize members of the military, veterans and their families through a variety of activities. Please check with your local Red Cross for details. 

  
  

  Homefront America

  Homefront America sponsors two different programs during the holiday season:  Homefront Santa and Gifts for our Little Unsung Heroes.

  Homefront Santa endeavors to match sponsors to military families.

  Gifts for our Little Unsung Heroes provides each registered child with unwrapped toys and/or gift cards.

  In addition, holiday meals for families are also provided.

  Operation Holiday Joy

  Make the holidays a little easier for just one more military family. Your gift will ensure there is a toy under the tree or a food basket on the table this Christmas. 100% of your donation goes to food and toys 

  Since 2004, Operation Holiday Joy supporters have donated more than $1.5 million for military and their families. Your generosity has allowed us to purchase and distribute more than 320,000 toys as well as deliver over 25,000 baskets of food for Thanksgiving and Christmas to junior enlisted families in need.

  Operation Homefront  

  http://www.operationhomefront.org/ offers many programs for military families throughout the year and Christmas. To receive a gift, you must register for your local Operation Homefront Toy Distribution. A military family may also participate in the organization’s holiday meal events and receive all of the groceries for a Christmas dinner. 

  
  

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  SEASONED CRACKERS

  2 pkgs. oyster crackers

  3/4 c. vegetable oil

  1 tsp. garlic salt

  1 tsp. dill weed

  1 pkg. Hidden Valley ranch dressing

  
  

  Put crackers in brown grocery bag. Put newspaper on counter top or kitchen sink and put bag of crackers on top. Mix oil and all remaining ingredients and pour over crackers. Stir with large spoon and let sit 15 minutes. Transfer to another brown bag and let sit for 1 hour or so. Put crackers in airtight containers or seal ziplock bags. Great gift idea for all holiday seasons.

  
  

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  To read this story is in it's entirety goto  https://www.mca-marines.org/leatherneck/sir-merry-christmas-christmas-tree-sir

  
  

  By Thomas Charles - Originally Published December 1987

  I think the Christmas tree had to be the rank of sergeant. In any case, it outranked us boots. A salute and proper greeting were required whenever we passed by or were summoned to the duty hut.

  I love Christmas time. I always have. However, there are two Christmas holidays which never fit in my usual thoughts. For one, I was halfway across the country. For the second, I was halfway around the world. These memories come back to me every year. I don't want to forget them.

  The first "different" Christmas came just after I joined the Marine Corps. That November, when I enlisted, it seemed that spending the winter in sunny Southern California was a good idea. It may have seemed right at the time, but believe me, it turned out to be wrong. Boot camp is the wrong place to spend winter-or any other season.

  While most civilians had been preparing for Christmas since Thanksgiving, we were trying to survive until February when we would graduate. We would then be Marines and no longer the "lowly boot." (The Marine Corps never did define the meaning of "boot" as used in boot camp. At least not that I remember. It doesn't need to. To those of us who were there, the definition is clear. To those who never go, there is no way to explain it.)

  Our drill instructors helped get us in the Christmas spirit. They provided a Christmas tree for the platoon. The DIs placed it in front of the duty hut in its own little stand. I think it had the rank of sergeant. In any case, it outranked us boots. A salute and proper greeting were required whenever we passed by or were summoned to the duty hut. "Sir, good morning Christmas tree, sir." Or "Sir, by your leave, Christmas tree, sir." A very awkward, one-sided greeting, but to forget to greet or properly acknowledge its existence meant a minimum of 25 push-ups as an apology.

  The DIs also involved the tree in our nighttime routine. After smokers had been allowed one before lights-out, the rest of the platoon would fall out in formation in front of the duty hut. The first time this happened, we assumed a careless smoker had allowed some of his ashes to dirty the platoon walk. But no, we weren't out there to clean the walk. It turned out that our Christmas tree had requested the DI have the platoon sing a Christmas song to it. Our DI was happy to oblige. The first night we sang "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Gene Autry didn't have to worry, but it was apparently good enough for the Christmas tree. These command performances would continue with a different song each night until Christmas.

  The colors of Christmas were everywhere at the recruit depot. Red is the main color of the Marine Corps flag and platoon guidons. Some ranks wear a red stripe on their dress blues. Our faces were often red after only 20 minutes in the sand pit. Our DIs often took us there to exercise until they got tired. It was funny how quickly we tired, doing push-ups, running-in-place and squat-thrusts, while our DIs managed to keep their cool, barking orders while they watched us. And green! We were part of the "Green Machine." We had green uniforms, green rocks, green blankets, green helmets, and green faces when we ran the obstacle course after a meal.

  And lots of twinkling lights. Just as you thought you were going to pass out from a three-mile platoon run, you'd see twinkling lights. Or when the hand-to-hand combat instructor demonstrated a new chokehold on you, you'd see twinkling lights. But when the giant Q-tip, called a pugil stick, caught you square under the chin during bayonet practice and sent you flying, you saw an explosion of multi-colored lights. The twinklers came as you regained consciousness.

  With just a week to go before Christmas, we made it back from the rifle range to our cozy World War II Quonset huts in San Diego. Here, we would lie in our metal bunks, snuggled between the luxurious 2-inch mattress supported by wires strung between springs and covered by the deep pile of the military blanket, while visions of sugar plums danced in our heads. Or was it nightmares of DIs dancing on our heads?

  Our Quonset huts were healed by oil stoves. Those stoves were very economical for the Corps. Most of the time, we were allowed to light them for only 30 minutes before lights-out and then for 30 minutes in the morning just after reveille. Now, the weather was getting colder and the stoves were left on all night. Due to the real danger of fire or explosion, a fire watch was needed and each boot took a turn during the night.

  The first military ribbon, earned by recruits, represented the National Defense Service Medal. However, to thousands of wintertime USMC Recruit Depot alumni, it will always be known as the "fire watch" ribbon. Your fire watch was a good time to catch up on writing letters home. Watching the stove was very boring and could put you to sleep. As fire watch was actually guard duty, the penalty for sleeping was severe. Letter writing was also prohibited, so everyone became very proficient at wrapping his blanket around him to prevent the glow of the penlight from being seen by the duty DI.

  One midnight trip to the exercise pit was enough to sink home the "no lights" order. The order, as explained by the DI, was to prevent an enemy sniper from sighting in on the glow and putting our lights out permanently. We, of course, already knew that from John Wayne films. I don't think we really fooled the DIs. They must have known what was going on. They knew everything else.

  As Christmas grew closer, the number of cards, letters and "CARE" packages from home increased. Mail call became a blessing and a curse. The DIs wanted to be sure we appreciated those letters and goodies. They would require five push-ups for each heart or "X" drawn on the outside of an envelope. A "SWAK" (sealed with a kiss) seal rated 25 sit-ups. And how the DIs loved the packages! If one contained something we all liked, and there was enough to go around, those who shared in it would first pay with 10 push-ups. If there was any left over, the recipient had to consume it all and then pay with 25 push-ups and sit-ups. We all enjoyed watching that, as long as it was happening to the other guy.

  Finally, Christmas Eve came and promised to be one of the better days in boot camp. The schedule called for marching practice and training films. At morning formation, the senior DI informed us we would be having duck dinner that night as a special treat. I had always thought turkey was the traditional meal, at least it is with my family. But if the Marine Corps served duck, that was fine with me. The day passed slowly. There wasn't much excitement in marching or training films. When the time came for evening chow, we all fell in quickly.

  Everyone was ready for the feast that surely awaited us. If duck was to be the main course, we could imagine how great the trimmings would be. As we marched to the messhall, we passed another platoon coming back from dinner. Our DI called out, "How was your duck?" To which they replied, "Sir, delicious, sir! Sir, Merry Christmas, sir" and marched on by with a big, satisfied grin on their faces. Our mouths began to water and we managed to march a little more quickly.

  When we arrived at the messhall, we were told to double-time in place. It was then explained, we were to double-time through the cafeteria-style mess and only pick up what we could eat as we passed through. Needless to say, we were all a little confused. This was certainly no way to eat a duck dinner. Our confusion mounted as we passed through, and found no duck, trimmings, or anything out of the ordinary. Most of us stuffed an extra apple or orange in our pockets for after lights-out and hustled into formation. When the ranks had formed, the DIs explained that their promise of a duck dinner had not been a lie. We had just had a duck dinner, boot camp style. We "ducked in" and "ducked out." The DIs were very amused. We were not.

  On the way back to our huts, we were lucky enough to pass another platoon on their way to the messhall. As we drew along side, their DI called out, "How was your duck?" We replied, "Sir, delicious, sir." Only then we, too, were amused...