Holidays at Our House: A Christmas Full of Soldiers

Growing up, the holiday season in our home was more than just a time for family gatherings and festive decorations – it was a time to open our doors and our hearts to those who couldn’t be with their own families. Every year, our home would fill with soldiers who couldn’t make it home for Christmas, and in their absence of loved ones, they found a home with us. Christmas wasn’t just a family holiday; it was a season of laughter, shared stories, and unexpected friendships that brought warmth to all of us.

The tradition started because the base my dad was stationed at was small enough that it closed, including the Mess Hall, from Thanksgiving to just after the New Year. That meant any of the soldiers on base and not on leave would have to figure out where to eat their holiday meals. My dad knew how it felt to spend the holidays abroad. He had spent a few holiday seasons himself in barracks instead of with family, and he wanted to make sure no one else had to feel alone if there was something he could do about it. So, my parents began inviting soldiers to join us for Christmas (and Thanksgiving), and over the years, it became an open invitation.

As a kid, I didn’t fully grasp the significance of what my parents were doing. I just knew that Christmas meant our house was going to be packed. If they had been with us before they knew what to expect but that first time they always arrived looking unsure at first. They always left stuffed with food, and carrying leftovers for later. They quickly became part of the family and the festivities. Some would read us kids stories, or share tales of their own families. For a child, having a house full of soldiers was like having a holiday filled with superheroes.

My mom would start baking days before, prepping pies, cookies, and every kind of holiday treat imaginable. She’d whip up an endless stream of dishes, from the traditional turkey and stuffing to things like ham, casseroles, and an assortment of side dishes that seemed endless. When the soldiers arrived, they couldn’t believe the spread. More than a few were caught sneaking second and third helpings of her famous pecan pie – though, to be fair, who could blame them?

For them, our home became a space where they could relax, forget about duty for a little while, and just be part of a family. Over the years, we heard so many of their stories. Some shared tales of snowy Christmases back home in the North, while others reminisced about tropical holiday memories from Hawaii or Florida. They’d show us pictures of their own families or tell us about Christmas traditions from around the world. As kids, we were fascinated by the idea that there were so many ways to celebrate Christmas. And I think it was comforting for them, too, to have a chance to talk about home and loved ones.

Our family always made sure that every soldier had a gift to open on Christmas morning even though money was tight most years. My parents would spend weeks beforehand picking out gifts and wrapping them with care. They knew how much it meant to feel remembered, and seeing their faces light up on Christmas morning was one of the best parts of the season. It was incredible how even something small could bring so much joy.

It just felt natural to include soldiers in our Christmas celebration. They became our extended family. The years we didn’t have any felt strangely empty, as if a piece of our Christmas puzzle was missing. I think my parents’ kindness instilled in me a sense of what Christmas is all about. It’s not about perfectly wrapped presents or a meticulously decorated home. It’s about people, kindness, and sharing warmth and joy with those around you. I didn’t realize it then, but now, looking back, I can see that those were the moments that shaped my understanding of what it means to give.

Even today, when I think back to those Christmases filled with soldiers, I’m overwhelmed with a deep gratitude for the sacrifices they made and a respect for the warmth and resilience they brought with them. The experience taught me that no one should be alone during the holidays, and that sometimes, the best gift you can give is a little kindness and a place to call home, even if just for one night.

If I ever open my home for Christmas the way my parents did, I hope it’s half as warm and welcoming as theirs. They set a beautiful example of what it means to share the holiday spirit, and I’m proud to carry on that legacy. Those memories will forever be etched in my heart, and I know that, for some of the soldiers who joined us, our home became a small but significant part of their lives too.