Dedication: To all those now serving, those who have served, and those who will serve in the armed forces. Your bravery inspires us all every day. Thank you

"Superman." The quiet whisper cut through the blares of horns and the shouted conversations that covered the Earth that Christmas Eve to where the man hovered in a red and blue suit, outside the atmosphere where the noises of the Earth were at least partially dampened by the vastness of space.

"Superman." It came again. It was not a cry of distress or pain, but it managed to rise above the last minute shoppers and the other noises of day to day life. It was not the cry of adult, but the whisper of a child, somewhere on the vast Earth below.

"Superman." Clark honed in on the sound, following it to a small house on a military base brightly festooned with brilliant Christmas decorations—and a yellow ribbon. A young girl, no more than five, stood at the window of her bedroom, a well-loved bedraggled teddy bear clutched to her chest. Her candy-cane nightgown was bright and festive, as were her Santa Claus socks. Her gleaming eyes were fixed on Superman as though she could not believe he had answered her call. He hovered at her window, cape flapping gently in the light evening wind.

"What can I do for you, young one?" he asked gently. She did not reply, but sucked on her clenched fist. He tried again. "Shouldn't you be in bed, little one? You know that Santa Claus can't come until you're asleep."

She removed her fist from her mouth and leaned toward him as though about to share a secret of great importance. "Mommy's still awake, so he can't come anyhow."

"Oh, I see," he nodded, "So you've still got a little bit of time." She nodded in response. "Still," he reminded her, "if your mother wants you to go to bed, you probably should. Between you and me, I always do what MY mother says."

She giggled. "Superman, you don't have a mommy."

He looked at her, shocked. "I don't?" he asked. "But then who made me this nice suit?" He spun in mid air, cape flowing behind him.

"Your mommy made you your suit?" she asked, thrilled, "My mommy made me my Halloween costume."

"And what were you? A princess?" he guessed.

"How did you know?!" she exclaimed.

"Clearly, someone as beautiful as you must be a Princess," he informed her seriously.

Her face saddened. "My daddy says I'm a Princess, when we talk on the computer. But, he's not here for this Christmas."

"Where is he?" Clark asked gently.

"Mommy says he is in A Rack, helping our country, but he can't come home 'cause the country needs him. But he isn't the country's daddy, he's my Daddy, and I want him to come home. Can you bring him home, Superman?"

Clark looked at her sadly. So young—too young to have her father on the other side of the world. But wasn't that true of everyone? Everyone was too young, or too old, or too lonely to have a loved one on the other side of the world. "I'm sorry, child. I can't bring him home."

She didn't look surprised—she looked as though it was what she had expected. It was a sad world when a four year old realized that Superman was not really all-powerful. But she had one last request, one he had not expected. "Can you take him Penguin?" she asked, holding out her teddy bear, "I don't want him to be lonely."

"Are you sure?" he asked her, "I'm sure your daddy would want you to have Penguin. He knows that you would miss him."

She nodded, but still held the teddy bear—Penguin—out. "Penguin's my favoritest," she agreed, "but I can sleep with Chipsie 'til daddy comes home. Please, Superman, I don't want daddy to be lonely on Christmas."

Clark reached out slowly and took the bear, to be rewarded by a huge smile. "I'll make sure that I deliver it to him tonight," he informed her solemnly.

"Thank you, Superman," she replied yawning.

"Go to bed, child, and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Superman," she replied as she climbed into bed, nearly asleep already. Clark carefully placed the bear under his arm, and after making sure she was safe in her bed, sped to the other side of the world, the only sign of his passing the rattling of the windows of the neighborhood.

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

Of all the men and women in the building, only one was awake early enough on Christmas to see the arrival of the superhero. Captain John Hayes sat on his bed looking through pictures of his wife and young daughter when a soft whoosh alerted him to the arrival of the famed superhero at the foot of his bed. He jumped in surprise, and then tensed as he thought of the possible reasons for Superman to show up next to his bed early on Christmas morning. "Lily…Kayleigh?" he asked in a near panic.

Superman laughed quietly in his deep baritone—a reassuring, soft sort of laugh that would make anyone comfortable. "They're fine," he said. John sighed in relief. "Your daughter asked me to bring you something." He reached around and unclipped something from his belt. "I didn't want to lose him over the Pacific. He's clearly very well loved," he explained, holding out a teddy bear—Kayleigh's teddy bear, Penguin. Superman laughed again at the look of confusion on John's face. "She didn't want you to be lonely on Christmas."

John laughed. "That sounds like Kayleigh," he said.

Superman nodded. "You have a fine daughter," he said, "If I'm lucky, I hope that I'll someday have one like her. Merry Christmas, Captain. Be safe." And before John realized just how personal that revelation had been, he was gone.

Knowing though that he could still hear him, John whispered, "Merry Christmas, Superman. Be safe." Then he turned, placed the bear on his pillow and headed out into the dim light of another desert sunrise, fully prepared to face another day in "A Rack".

For he was a soldier and that was what he did.

He did it for his country.

He did it for his beliefs.

He did it for his family.

And he did it for his little girl named Kayleigh and her bear Penguin.

Then the Soldier rolled over With a voice soft and pure Whispered, "Carry on Santa, It's Christmas Day, All is Secure."

A/N: Inspired by "A Soldier's Christmas". Standard disclaimer applies.