From the archives, Christmas Presence 2006…
She couldn’t fall asleep, excited with anticipation of his visit, wondering what she might find waiting under the tree in the morning. At the tender age of six, she absolutely loved this time of year. She loved the lights, the snow, the music, and the cookies. She loved not being able to sleep.
He tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. He was nervous, excited, and scared all at once. He normally loved this time of year, watching her bright, young, blue eyes fill with wonder at the sight of all the presents left beneath the tree, but tonight he was restless. He hated not being able to sleep.
She quietly looked in on her daughter, not really surprised to find she was still awake, curled beneath the blanket with her back to the door, staring wide eyed at the shadows on the far wall. She wondered what was running through her little girl’s mind, though she suspected it had something to do with who was to visit this night. She let out a heavy sigh, afraid she’d not been able to make this Christmas a special one.
He decided to get up, swinging his legs over the edge of his cot. After lacing up his boots, he checked his watch noting the time, 0300, two and a half hours until SP. He wondered if there was fresh coffee available in the mess tent.
She decided to sneak downstairs, leaping from her bed, tiptoeing ever so softly and just as she reached the last step, gasped at the sight of the pile of colorfully wrapped gifts stacked beneath the sparkling tree. She wondered how she could’ve missed his visit, she hadn’t fallen asleep. She wondered when her mom would wake so they could open the presents.
She lay in bed, holding tightly onto his pillow, staring at his picture on her nightstand through tear filled eyes. She couldn’t fall asleep on this eve of Christmas.
He reviewed the mission plan for the tenth or eleventh time. He thought it would work, but felt a nest of butterflies in his belly and wasn’t sure why. He’d been in country for almost nine months now, this mission was like any other, just a slight deviation was all.
“You look nervous sarge, what’s up?” his driver asked.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just a little concerned about our side trip during the mission today.”
“Don’t sweat it sarge, the network these knights have is solid.”
She sat holding a hot, steaming mug of coffee, wrapped in a pink terry cloth robe, her heart warm with delight at the sight of her little angel opening gifts, while it ached with pain at the thought of her soldier husband spending this day in harm’s way.
Her nose wrinkled and her brow rose in curiosity as she opened the final present. It was a phone. Nothing fancy, just a plain, beige telephone that plugs into the wall. She looked at her mom questioningly.
He jumped from the humvee before it stopped completely alongside a nondescript storefront, boarded up and closed for what seemed like a very long time. His heart raced as the convoy continued down the quiet, dark, Baghdad street ahead of them. He quickly unloaded boxes of food and medical supplies as a sheet of plywood on the storefront mysteriously opened, revealing several Iraqis who quietly received the boxes of supplies.
She asked what the phone was for.
He grabbed the arm of a man he knew only as Henri, and without speaking a word, handed him a large red sack, overstuffed with children’s toys. The Iraqi Christian known as Henri nodded his thanks with a tear in his eye and in the next second the sheet of plywood was again in place on the boarded up storefront. He jumped into the humvee and rejoined the convoy just several meters ahead.
She ran a long phone line to her daughter’s new telephone and set it under the tree. They stayed in their pajamas most of the day, playing with the girl’s new toys, making cookies, and watching Christmas movies. She avoided answering her daughter’s inquiries as to why a telephone, saying only, “Santa must want you to have it for a reason.”
He was covered with sweat and exhausted, but thankful the mission was a success.
She looked at her mom when her new phone rang.
She nodded and told her to answer it.
“Hello?” she asked, “Daddy!”
“Merry Christmas Angel, are you enjoying the holiday?”
She cried watching and listening to her daughter talk on the phone with her daddy.
He cried hearing his daughter’s sweet voice thousands of miles away.
“Oh yes Daddy, very much. Mom and I went caroling last night; we sang ‘Little Drummer Boy’,” she excitedly answered.
“Did you get a lot of presents?” he asked.
“Daddy, did you deliver the toys like I asked?”
“Yes Angel, I delivered your Christmas presents to some very special Iraqi Children.”
Christmas presence from a soldier and his family. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 0037 zulu | | Permalink
This post is filed under: Homefront & The Soldier
