----- Original Message -----
From: "rayilynlee" <[log in to unmask]>
To: "Ordell Nelson" <[log in to unmask]>; "Lorraine Krofchok"
<[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, December 25, 2006 9:07 AM
Subject: A dream deferred


> Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Iraq Not a creature was
> stirring; no sign of attack. The soldiers were sleeping; their dreams
> filled the air. They envisioned their homes, and saw themselves there.
> Whilst I was on watch, trying hard not to doze; But losing that battle, my
> lids started to close.
> Then out in the desert, there arose such a clatter; I sprang up prepared,
> to deal with the matter. And what, to my wondering eyes, should appear,
> But a miniature sleigh, with eight tiny reindeer. The driver had white
> hair, his cheeks plump and ruddy; And soon I did know him -- an old and
> trusted buddy. "Murtha!" I cried out in shock, "what brings thee to
> I-raq?" He said to me, "It's Christmas -- and I've come to bring you
> back." This welcome news did fill me, with a great and joyous urge; Though
> I wondered about my mission, and about that final "surge." He said to me,
> "Your mission's done; you served it well and true. You've followed every
> order, and done all you can do. And now it's time to come on home, and get
> back to your life. You cannot end the bloodshed here, you cannot quell the
> strife." I had to nod at good old John; I knew that he was right; And in
> my heart, I also knew: I'd no more wish to fight. "But how will you take
> us all?" I asked. "You've only one small sleigh." He laughed "ho-ho" and
> pointed -- to the others on the way. He waved at all those drivers, and
> called out loud and clear: "Come Harry and come Nancy. Come Hillary --
> have no fear!" They all drove up, in their sleighs, still tentative yet
> cheerful. But I noticed some faces missing, and it made me a bit fearful.
> "Where's Cheney, and where's Rummy? And where's our old pal Joe?" John
> smiled soon as he heard this, and answered, "Don't you know? They're safe
> at home in their comfy beds, with nary a thought of you. They're dreaming
> up new half-baked plans -- for things we must never do." I summoned all my
> sleeping mates, who rubbed their tired eyes; We climbed into those little
> sleighs, and rode into the skies. Murtha led the whole way back, with
> stops at many a door; Where each soldier was left off at home, to stay
> forever more. I was brought home last of all, to join my wife and son; I
> hugged them for a good long time, and then I turned to John. But he'd
> already left my door, and was sailing in mid-flight; I heard him cry,
> "Merry Christmas to all -- and to all, good night." And after that came
> peace on earth, until I heard the crack Of a fresh new round of gunfire --
> I awoke, still in Iraq.
>
> Send to a friend
> by Warren Berger

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